


Fire and Flood

by SeraBee



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraBee/pseuds/SeraBee
Summary: Set in October 2021 (with the occasional flashback).Vanessa returns to the village after a year of being gone. Can both women find their way back to each other, or is it too late?
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 77
Kudos: 270





	1. Bruises

Noah looks like he’s seen a ghost when he comes crashing through the front doors of the Woolpack. As he steadies himself at the bar and drags some air back into his lungs, she can see something like fear in his eyes as he scans the pub before finding her.

Putting down the pen she’d been using for her crossword, Charity slides off the bar stool and walks around the bar until she’s standing in front of him. Placing a hand on each of his arms, she sees that he’s holding back tears.

“Noah, what’s wrong? Has something happened? Is Moses okay?”

When he doesn’t answer straight away, a thousand scenarios run through her mind, all of which involve one of her children being injured. She feels the knots in her stomach begin to tighten and she tenses her jaw, searching his face for some sort of reassurance.

“No, Moses is fine, I’m fine, no one is hurt…” he assures her, but then his voice trails off and he breaks eye contact with her, his gaze shifting desperately around the pub for something to focus on that isn’t his mother.

“Noah, you’re scaring me, what has got you in this state?”

He bites his lip just like she does when she’s nervous. She can tell he doesn’t really want to tell her, can read the internal battle in the furrow of his brow. Eventually he takes a deep breath and forces himself to look her clear in the eye.

“She’s back,” he mumbles.

At first she isn’t sure what he’s talking about. He flinches when he speaks and watches her intently, as if she’s some sort of bomb that is about to explode. His eyes search hers, waiting for the penny to drop.

“What on earth are you talking about Noah?” she huffs, exasperated with his vagueness.

“Vanessa, mum… I’m on about Vanessa,” he sighs, “I’ve just seen her pull up outside of Tracy’s.”

For a moment she is frozen. She doesn’t seem to blink or breathe for what felt like an eternity and Noah winces as her hands slowly tighten around his arms, eventually breaking free of her grip and putting his hands on her shoulders instead.

After a few moments, however, she simply takes a deep breath, pats him on his arms and shrugs.

“Thanks for letting me know,” she smiles.

Stunned, he watches as she goes back around the bar, whispers something to Bob and then disappears into the back. Bob looks at him, eyebrows raised in question, but he has no idea what to say. No idea what has actually just happened.

She decides on the cellar. Chas will no doubt be in the back rooms, and she’s really not ready to have a conversation with her about this. There’s slightly less chance of her being disturbed in the cellar anyway, especially since she’s stopped using it as a place to skive.

She immediately regrets her decision when her eyes fall to the armchair where it had all begun. She finds herself glued to the spot, staring down a piece of furniture as if it was responsible for everything rotten in her life.

Noah’s words, echoing like a broken record, are stuck on repeat in her head. Rubbing at her temples, she makes her way over to the bottles of spirits and though her first instinct is whisky, she changes her mind to gin at the last minute.

Opening the bottle, she takes a long drink, savouring the burn as the straight alcohol numbs her throat and lips. Immediately, the sound of Noah’s voice becomes fuzzier, the weight behind his words just a little bit easier to carry.

She slumps into the armchair, desperately trying to force back the memories that are clawing to be released simply at the mention of her name.

“I’m sorry Charity, I just can’t do this anymore, can’t be here anymore. It’ll be better for both of us if I just take Johnny and go.”

Charity hears the words but can’t seem to process them. Perched tentatively on the end of the bed, she simply watches as Vanessa folds her clothes neatly into the suitcase. By the door, Johnny’s is already packed and ready to go.

She feels as though she has spent the last year on a sinking ship, constantly trying to keep it afloat. For the last few months, it has felt like she has been the only one trying.

“Don’t you love us anymore?” she finally manages to ask, wincing at how pathetic she sounds. But this is what Vanessa had done to her. She’d made her need her, made her love her more fiercely than she’d ever loved anyone… and now she was simply walking away.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, pushing down the lid of the suitcase and slowly pulling the zip around.

Charity watches all the pieces of Vanessa disappear into the case. Looking around the room – their bedroom – all she can see now is the empty spaces where Vanessa had used to be. The words cut deep and she can’t wrap her head around the doubt in Vanessa’s voice.

“After everything we’ve been through… you can really just walk away?” she asks, searching Vanessa’s face for something – some flicker of emotion, a sign that somewhere deep down, she might still love her.

There’s nothing there.

“I have to. Too much has happened. I need a fresh start,” she explains, her voice as firm and concise as her words.

Charity realises in that moment that it’s hopeless. That her mind is made up and that as usual, nothing Charity says or does can change it.

In the living room, the kids are waiting. Sarah grabs hold of Moses’ hand as he strains to get away whilst Noah holds Johnny in his arms, his tiny head buried into his big brother’s shoulder.

“It’s okay Sarah, you can let him go,” Ness whispers, and for the first time, her voice shakes.

Moses runs straight for her, throwing his arms around her neck and holding on so tightly that he nearly chokes her. She wraps her arms around him and holds him close, peppering kisses on his forehead and cheeks as tears roll down her face.

“I’m going to miss you, Wigglebum,” she sobs.

“Don’t go Mummy,” he begs her, but she’s already wiping away her tears and prising him off of her.

“I’m sorry darling, but I have to go. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Charity scoffs. She’s told her children enough lies of her own, but somehow it stings to hear Vanessa lie to them.

“Don’t give him hope, Ness. If you’re going, just go already,” she insists, grabbing Moses and carrying him upstairs with her. She doesn’t want to put him through the goodbye. She doesn’t want to see his face when he watches the car drive away. She doesn’t want to see it either.

From Moses’ bedroom, she can hear the tears of her eldest son and granddaughter as they say their goodbyes. She hears Johnny screaming for her and Moses as Vanessa takes him away from them for good. And then she hears the slamming of car doors and the starting of the engine.

And just like that, they’re gone and in the silence that they have left behind, all she can hear is Moses’ heart breaking as he sobs inconsolably into her shirt.

Vanessa makes her way slowly around the living room. Tracy has redecorated since she left – there’s a lot less yellow now. Her favourite chair has been moved upstairs, to the nursery and the old sofa is gone too. Everything looks more sleek and modern and apart from a few framed photos of herself, Johnny and her dad, all traces of her ever having lived here have been eradicated.

Tracy hands her a brew and motions for her to sit down. Johnny has already been tempted away by biscuits, juice and full control over the remote. She finds herself grateful for his silence, however brief it might be. For the entire car journey, once she had let slip where they were going, all he had wanted to know was if he was going to see Moses and Noah and Mummy Charity. She hadn’t known how to answer his questions and had long since given up trying to figure it out.

Instead, she focuses on her sister and the tiny baby in her arms.

“Can I hold her?” she asks, tears welling up as Tracy nods and hands over her niece. 

“She’s perfect,” she whispers, in awe of how tiny she is, with her tiny rosebud lips and ridiculously long eyelashes. The olive skin and little dark curls are all Nate, but she has Tracy’s nose and mouth. Johnny appears at her side, staring at the baby with a mixture of curiosity and jealousy.

“Mummy, give it back now,” he pleads, and when she does, he crawls into her lap to claim back his territory.

“I’m sorry Tracy,” she blurts out. “I wanted to come sooner, when you told me you were pregnant, I wanted to be here for you, I did… but I wasn’t ready,”

Tracy looks at her intently, cradling baby Violet in one arm whilst she sips at her brew.

“And are you ready now?” she finally asks.

Vanessa wraps her arms tighter around Johnny, seeking comfort in the smell of his jumper and his hair. The truth, she realises, is that she still isn’t sure. There are parts of her that never wanted to leave in the first place, but other parts that are screaming for her to get back in her car and drive away.

“My therapist thinks I am,” she eventually answers diplomatically. “She thinks I need to face up to things if I’m going to make any more progress, and I think she’s right.”

Tracy doesn’t look convinced. With a deep sigh, she looks up at the ceiling and seems to be weighing up her words carefully. From the moment Vanessa had left the village, all she had wanted was to have her sister back. Not the sister that had left, but the sister that she had found. The sister from before the cancer and Pierce and the death of their father. For over a year, she had watched that sister slowly slip away, suffocated beneath the weight of all the shit she had gone through. She was almost too afraid to hope that she might be back.

“Look Vee,” she sighs. “I’m chuffed that you’re here – I really am. And I know that you had to leave, that you were ill and needed space and time to sort that out. But when you left, Charity and the kids really suffered. I mean, really suffered. We thought she was going to drink herself to death at one point – if Debbie hadn’t come back when she did, I dread to think…”

Vanessa feels the uncomfortable rise of shame as Tracy explains just how much damage her leaving had caused. She had talked about Charity so much in therapy – about how she had left things – and her therapist had tried so hard to get her to forgive herself, but she couldn’t. And the fact that the guilt was still eating away at her, even a year later, was the reason her therapist had insisted on this trip.

“How is she now?” she asks quietly, almost too afraid to know the answer.

“Well that’s just it Vee, she’s doing okay now. I don’t think she’ll ever be her old self – but she’s pretty close to it. You crushed her Vee, and she’s really fragile. I don’t know if seeing you again is going to be such a great idea…”

Vanessa tries not to feel jealous about the fact that her sister – her own flesh and blood – is more concerned about Charity and the kids than she is about her and Johnny. She knows deep down that she deserves to have been forgotten – to have been relegated to second place. After all, it had been her decision to leave them all.

“The last thing I want to do is hurt anybody Trace,” she insists, “but perhaps this might help Charity too. Johnny misses them so much. I do too. Maybe we can get to a place where things are at least civil.”

Tracy shakes her head but realises that she isn’t going to change her sister’s mind.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, that’s all…”

Chas finds her eventually, curled up in the old armchair and drinking away the pub’s stock for the first time in months. Noah had found her whilst looking for his mum and had explained what he’d seen and how his mum had reacted to the news.

She couldn’t help but feel angry at Vanessa. It had taken her and the family over six months to get Charity back on track after she had walked out on them and taken little Johnny with her. Six months of picking up the pieces time and time again when she either drunk herself into oblivion or refused to get out of bed for days on end. And now, this fragile normality that they had managed to build back up was about to come crashing down again.

“I don’t want to see her,” she slurs, taking another drink from the bottle that she’s cradling like an infant in her arms.

Chas squeezes herself onto the chair and wraps her arms around her cousin, pressing their foreheads together. Charity resists at first, but eventually, the tension in her body seems to disappear and she sinks into her cousin’s arms and allows the tears to fall.

Tracy isn’t surprised when the knock comes. She had seen Noah at the other end of the street when Vanessa had arrived. She knew he had seen them and that eventually, someone would tell Charity. She’s almost relieved that Vanessa is upstairs settling Johnny down and she rushes to the door, hoping to diffuse the situation.

She’s surprised to see that it’s Debbie, not Charity, standing there.

“Can I come in?” she asks, already peering around Tracy into the living room for any sign of Vanessa.

“Look, Debbie, I don’t want any trouble okay? The kids are asleep so can we at least keep things calm?”

Debbie pushes past Tracy, but her expression has softened slightly.

“Look, you’re with my brother, you’re practically family Trace, I’m not going to kick off, I swear, I just want to know what’s going on?”

At that moment, Vanessa reappears on the stairs and looks anxiously between Tracy and Debbie as she makes her way down the final few steps. Nervously, she picks at a loose thread in her sweater.

“Hi Debbie, long time no see,” she mumbles.

“You think?” Debbie scoffs, rolling her eyes and folding her arms firmly in front of herself defensively. Vanessa recoils from the look of disgust on Debbie’s face. Once upon a time, Debbie had adored her. Had felt like she was the best thing to have ever happened to her mum. Had trusted her to take care of her sick daughter when she went to Scotland. Now, all Debbie seems to see when she looks at her is disappointment.

“I don’t want to upset anyone, Debbie. I just wanted to see my niece, and Tracy and just work through some unresolved things, that’s all.”

Debbie gasps in disbelief.

“Unresolved things? Is that what we are?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that… I just meant…”

Debbie doesn’t let her carry on.

“Look, just do me a favour yeah? Stay away from mum. She doesn’t want to see you. None of us do.”

Before Vanessa can even think of a reply, Debbie is already walking out of the door, making it crystal clear that the topic is not up for discussion.

Wringing her hands together, Vanessa wonders, not for the first time that day, whether she is making a really big mistake coming back to the village.


	2. Facing Fears

Vanessa’s first night back in Emmerdale is a restless one. She plays Debbie’s warning over and over again in her mind as she tries to figure out what she will do when morning comes.

  
Charity doesn’t want to see her. None of them do. It shouldn’t surprise her. After all, she was the one who just walked away, discarding their three years together as if it meant absolutely nothing to her. Not even trying to explain why. She had expected things to get better once she had put distance between herself and Emmerdale, but if anything, it got worse.

  
Even in the city, a place that was so completely different from the village, she still had panic attacks. Every time she smelled smoke, whether it was a barbeque or a cigarette or an actual fire, she would remember the sound of her dad’s body crunching as it hit that van, smell his aftershave, feel the gravel beneath her knees as she knelt beside his lifeless body. And every slim-built, dark-haired man in the street became Pierce, paralysing her with fear as though she was still his prisoner. Miles away from the place where everything bad had happened to her, she still couldn’t escape from the memories.

  
When the panic attacks got so bad she stopped leaving the house, her mum had insisted that she see a doctor and that doctor had referred her to a psychiatrist. The diagnosis of PTSD didn’t change anything at first. It took weeks for the medication to start working and even longer for her to finally open up to her therapist. Asking for help had never been her MO. Abandonment issues that stemmed from her childhood had taught her never to show her vulnerability to anyone, to not even give people an opportunity to hurt her.

  
Eventually, she learned to trust Judy and let her in. They dissected each traumatic event in her life, identified her triggers and worked out coping mechanisms for dealing with each of them. She’d been making good progress for a while, finally allowing herself to process the horrible things that had happened to her. It was as though her mind had been a jigsaw puzzle scattered into pieces and with each session of therapy, they were slowly putting it back together. But as she stopped obsessing over individual pieces, the bigger picture became clear again, and that was almost more painful. She had ran away, thinking that it would solve everything, but it hadn’t. All it had achieved was pain, pain that she had inflicted on Charity and the kids as well as herself.

  
As the bad memories were tidied away, good memories had begun to filter back through. She realised that for each horrible thing that had happened to her in Emmerdale, a hundred other wonderful things had also happened. And the brightest and happiest of those memories were all Charity…

  
Sighing, she gives up trying to sleep and edges herself slowly out of the bed she’s sharing with Johnny. Sliding her feet into her slippers and wrapping her dressing gown around her, she slips out of the door, closing it slowly and softly behind her.

  
Downstairs, she switches on the kettle and searches for a mug. It takes her three tries to find the right cupboard because nothing is where it used to be. Even the teaspoons are in a different drawer. It shouldn’t upset her, but it does. It’s not like she hit the pause button when she left – as much as she wishes she could have. Life here had carried on without her. Charity has carried on without her. Learned to live without her.

  
She’s so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t hear the pad of footsteps on the stairs.

  
“Can’t sleep?”

  
The voice is gruff and unexpected and she drops the spoon she’s been using to stir her coffee. Spinning around, she’s surprised to see Nate, dressed in boxers and t-shirt and cradling baby Violet in his arms.

  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he mumbles, opening the fridge one handed and taking out one of pre-made bottles of formula. He checks the heat of the kettle with the back of his hand and, satisfied that it’s still boiling hot, pours some into a jug so that he can warm the bottle.

  
“It’s fine, I was just in my own world, didn’t even hear her wake up.” She takes the coffee and sits at the kitchen table, surprised when Nate joins her.  
“You’ve got a lot to think about, I expect,” he muses, hushing an increasingly restless Violet.

  
“Do I stay, or do I go?” she whispers, watching the swirling coffee in her cup intently. “I suppose you think I should leave as well, like the rest of the family?”  
“I don’t actually,”

  
He plucks the bottle from the jug of hot water and squirts a bit of the milk on the inside of his wrist. Happy with the temperature, he pops the bottle into Violet’s mouth and she stops squirming, sucking hungrily. Once he’s happy that she’s settling, he looks up at Vanessa and smiles.

  
“Look, if I’d left the village whenever a Dingle told me to, where would I be? Not here that’s for sure. Not happy with your sister or with this little beauty. If you want to put things right, then you owe it to yourself to try don’t you?”

  
She should have known that Nate would have understood about making mistakes and seeking redemption. And it had worked out for him eventually, even though the Dingle’s had pushed him away time and time again. She wonders if she has his resolve, the courage to fight for what she wants.  
“But if Charity doesn’t want anything to do with me…” she begins. He doesn’t let her finish.

  
“Charity was heartbroken when you left. If you ask me, she still is, she’s just got better at hiding it. She isn’t over you. Surely, that means there’s still a chance?”  
Just thinking about the slim possibility that Charity might still love her – might still want her – makes her heart race. She offers Nate a grateful smile as he gets to his feet and nods his head to a dozing baby.

  
“I’m going to take her back up,” he whispers, “but hopefully we’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

  
“Yeah, I think you will,” she smiles.

  
He grins then, before heading back up the stairs. As quiet settles back in around her, she finds she’s breathing a little easier. Nate wouldn’t normally be her first choice of agony aunt, but for the first time all day, she feels like her mind is perfectly clear. Sticking around and seeing things through was not going to be easy, but then nothing that’s truly worth having is ever easy to get. She had walked away once before and it had been the biggest mistake she’d ever made. She wasn’t going to do it again.  
  


  
  
“Mum, wake up,”

  
Groaning, Charity opens one eye briefly before slamming it shut immediately when she realises how bright it is in the room. Every bone and muscle in her body aches and her mouth feels like the inside of a tram driver’s glove.

  
“Time is it?” she mumbles, burying her head into her pillow.

  
“It’s after 9, I’ve just dropped the kids off at school and college, there’s some water and tablets on the table here, but you have to get up,”

  
Debbie doesn’t wait for an argument. She’s gone again before Charity can even formulate one. She tries to go back to sleep, but all she can think about is how dry her mouth is and the fact that there is water nearby. Heaving herself into something more like a sitting position, she carefully opens her eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness of the morning. Shakily, she reaches out for the water and clutches it with both hands so she doesn’t spill it all over herself.

  
It’s been a while since she’s been this hung-over. Months in fact. Noah had made her promise after the last time that she wouldn’t drink like this again. This may well be the longest she’s gone without letting him down.

  
Rubbing at her eyes, she’s surprised to see that her knuckles end up covered in last night’s mascara. She realises then that she can’t remember how she got into bed. Or how she got home for that matter. The last thing she remembers is sobbing in Chas’ arms in the cellar about how it wasn’t fair that Vanessa could just walk out and then walk back into her life whenever she bloody well felt like it.

  
The memory hits her like a punch to the stomach. Not entirely sure whether the entire thing was a nightmare that her drunken brain conjured up to torture her, she stumbles out of bed and across to the window to check. Sure enough, across the road and parked outside of Tug Ghyll, is the achingly familiar blue beetle. Which means that the owner of the car must be inside the house.

  
Not quite sure how to process the fact sober, she chooses to crawl back beneath the covers and pulls the duvet over her head.  
For months she’d have given anything to see that car in the village again, but now she wasn’t so sure. It had taken months for her to accept that Vanessa wasn’t going to come back. Months in which she had tried to drown the memories of her in alcohol. Months in which Noah had practically taken over raising Moses whilst she struggled to even get out of bed without a drink. 

  
Her self-destruction had only ended when Noah had phoned Debbie, unable to keep up with his college work because he was looking after his brother and mother. Debbie had come home then, storming back into her life like a force of nature. She’d practically locked Charity in the house, confiscated all of her alcohol and implored her to forget about Vanessa and get on with her life.

  
And she had – sort of. She had thrown herself into her work and the kids. She had been determined to prove that she could be a good mum without Vanessa around. And so far, she wasn’t doing a bad job. She cooked dinner every night she wasn’t working and read Moses a story every night before bed. She was getting better at not thinking about the boy that was missing.

  
“You can’t hide in there all day,” she hears Debbie say from somewhere on the other side of the duvet. “I went round last night you know, to see her, to tell her to get lost, if she’s got any sense, she’ll be packing right now.”

  
Charity pulls the covers off and sits up quickly. Too quickly. Cradling her head in her hands, she waits for the room to stop spinning before she speaks.  
“Why did you do that Debs?”

  
Debbie walks over to the bed and sits down heavily. She looks at her mum -all panda eyes and knotty hair - and sighs.

  
“Look at you mum. If this is what her just being in the village does to you, what state are you going to be in if you bump into her? You’ve been doing so well. I don’t want her to ruin that.”

  
Charity knows that on some level, Debbie is right. She usually is. She’s not as impulsive as her mother – more likely to make decisions with her head rather than act on instinct. And yes, the mere mention of Vanessa being back in the village had sent her spiralling back to square one. No one in her entire life, not even Cain, had the power over her that Vanessa did. What they’d had might have ended in disaster, but whilst she’d had it, had Vanessa, she had felt whole for the first time in her life.

  
Even at her worst, Vanessa had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. She had been the first person in Charity’s life to love every piece of her, even the broken and damaged parts. She had loved her so thoroughly and completely that she had stopped feeling damaged. For once she had believed that she could be a whole person. 

  
Even when Vanessa’s mood swings became more volatile and erratic, she had held on to her, desperate to believe that once the cancer was gone, her Vanessa would come back. 

  
“It was just the shock, that’s all,” Charity insists, “I’m fine now, or at least I will be when this headache goes away,”

  
Debbie reaches for her hand and squeezes it tightly. Charity wonders if she was ever the parent in this relationship with her daughter.

  
“Please don’t tell me you want to see her, mum?” she asks disbelievingly.

  
“I don’t know, Debbie. Maybe. If I can find out why she left and what I did that was so wrong, then maybe I’ll be able to move on?”  
Debbie rolls her eyes and sighs heavily as she stands up, throwing her hands in the air. 

  
“How many times do we have to tell you, mum? You did nothing wrong. You did everything you could for her and it still wasn’t enough for her to stick around. You’d be a fool if you give her another chance to break your heart.”

  
“If only it were that simple babe,” Charity murmurs as Debbie walks away. Yes, Vanessa had broken her heart – but there was no way that it could broken again. She was still waiting for it to heal.

  
  
  
The first time she sees Charity, she’s walking over to the Woolpack from Jacobs Fold. Vanessa has been sitting on the wall outside of Mulberry Cottage for nearly 30 minutes when she spots the flash of blonde hair. It’s longer than it was when she left – almost reaching her shoulders as she walks briskly with her head down, eyes to the pavement. Something about the way she carries herself now tells Vanessa that she's carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

  
Just the sight of her in the distance makes Vanessa's breath catch in her throat and the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand on end and she shivers. She feels the fluttering in her stomach that she always used to feel whenever Charity was around. A feeling she’d always expected to fade with time, but it never had. Even miles away from Emmerdale, every memory of Charity that she’d allowed back in and made something deep inside of her ache and yearn for the other woman.

  
“Heard a rumour you were back lady,”

  
The familiar voice startles her as she watches Charity walk into the pub. Turning around, she can’t help but giggle at the sight of Rhona in her farming overalls and wellies, completely filthy but looking happy and healthy.

  
“Rhona!” she squeals, closing the distance between them and wrapping Rhona in a hug that’s almost suffocating.

  
“Whoa, Ness, settle down! It’s good to see you, but I need to be able to breathe if we’re going to have a proper catch up.”

  
Rhona’s smile fades when she realises where they are standing. Looking up at Mulberry Cottage, her eyes darken and Vanessa realises that this unassuming, quaint little cottage holds a lot of Rhona’s demons too.

  
“I was trying to work up the courage to go in,” she admits, “my therapist thinks it’ll help, but I’m not so sure.”

  
According to Judy, the only way she was going to be able to get her old life back was to face her fears. Through therapy, she had developed something of an arsenal of tools and techniques she could use when something triggered her and she could now pass Pierce look-a-likes in the street with minimal panic and smell smoke without having a complete meltdown. But as she mastered her fears and found herself with room to breathe, all she had wanted to do was tell Charity. One night, she had even tried calling her, but the line was dead. Charity had changed her phone number. The fear and anxiety that had filled up every part of her had made room for regret and guilt. 

  
Therapy sessions had become repetitive as she struggled to accept that she had hurt the people she loved because of her illness and not intentionally. In the end, Judy had told her that she wasn't going to make any more progress until she went back home and found some closure and she couldn't really come back home until she faced up to the fears that had made her run in the first place.

  
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Rhona offers, her eyes determined and sincere.

  
“Yes please,” she whispers, nodding her head.

  
Jai answers the door and looks surprised to see them. The kids are at school and Laurel is at work, but he’s happy for them to come in if they’re sure it will help. He hovers around nervously, not quite sure where to put himself as the two women make their way into the house.

  
The first thing she notices are the stairs. Wellies are lined up along the side of them and a range of different sized, different coloured coats hang from the bannister. Signs of warmth and family are everywhere but Vanessa finds herself staring at the step where she had sat for the first night Pierce had her and the railing to which he’d taped her wrists. Suddenly, the sound of Rhona and Jai’s voices seem much further away and a shiver runs through her as she looks up the stairs, expecting to see him walking down them.

  
Suddenly, she can’t quite catch her breath. She knows it’s a panic attack, that she just needs to do her breathing exercises, but all she can see now is Johnny’s tiny body looking lifeless in that bed and Pierce's face laughing at her, taunting her. She can almost taste the scarf that he’d used to keep her quiet. It had tasted of Laurel's perfume and the fabric had soaked up every drop of moisture in her mouth until she'd developed sores and her lips had cracked. Trembling, she raises her fingers to her lips to remind herself that this is just a flashback. As the memories flood in, she feels herself swaying as her rapid breathing means her lungs are starving for oxygen.

  
Rhona grabs her by the shoulders then and shakes her gently, urging her to breathe. Jai is in the background somewhere, asking if he should phone an ambulance. She focus’ on Rhona and forces herself to breathe in slowly, counting to 8 in her head. With her lungs full of air, she breathes out slowly for 5. Eventually, her breathing steadies and she nods and smiles weakly at Rhona who releases her from her grip.

  
“We don’t have to stay. I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?”

  
Jai holds the door open for them as they step back out into the fresh air outside. Vanessa breathes it in gratefully, feeling the tightly wound knots in her stomach unwind as she gazes at the cloudy sky above. She wonders if this is how prisoners feel when they are finally granted freedom.

  
“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened to you both in there. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you…”

  
Jai looks genuinely sympathetic and Vanessa finds herself thrown by the kindness in his voice. She had tried her best to forgive him after he’d barged into her at the factory, most likely triggering her premature labour, but when Charity had confided in her about how he had locked her in a shipping crate, she’d grown to hate him even more.

  
“I reckon Charity might have an idea though, don’t you think?” she sneers, and watches his features contort into something like shame. He can’t get rid of them fast enough then, offering a hurried goodbye before closing the door.

  
“Are you okay?” Rhona asks, linking her arm around Vanessa’s and tugging her gently until she starts to walk with her.

  
“Yeah, I’m fine… six months ago, I wouldn’t have even made it inside, let alone be able to calm myself down like that, so believe it or not, I’m chalking that up as a win…”

  
She tries to brush it off, slightly embarrassed that Rhona had seen her in that state. Her oldest friend seems to sense her shame and kindly changes the subject.  
“So… what about Charity?” she asks, nudging Vanessa in the side with her elbow.

  
Vanessa looks down at her feet and then back at the Woolpack. Her heart was still racing from the Pierce flashback and she knew she needed a clear mind to face Charity again after all this time.

  
“What about Charity?” She asks, purposefully avoiding having to answer the question.

  
“Are you going to talk to her?"

Rhona grins at her madly, as though they are twelve years old and daring each other to talk to someone they have a crush on at school.

  
“Maybe we could grab a coffee and work up to that eh?” 

  
“Sure,” Rhona smiles, “It will give me a chance to fill you in on my exciting life as a farmer.”

  
  
  
  
  
Charity can’t help but smile at how miserable Jai looks when he walks into the pub, but when he orders an orange juice without making eye contact, curiosity gets the better of her.

  
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks as she slides the orange juice across the bar with one hand and snatches the £5 note out of his hand with the other. He waits until she’s busy at the till before he answers.

  
“I’ve just had Vanessa and Rhona at the cottage,” he mumbles.

  
“Really?” she responds, glancing back at him briefly before ringing the drink through the till and busying herself with counting out his change. Her heart is suddenly beating so hard she’s surprised the whole pub can’t hear it. She schools her features before turning back to Jai and placing his change in his outstretched hand. Out of habit, he counts it before sliding it into his trouser pocket.

  
“Yeah, something about therapy and facing her fears or something. Then she had some sort of panic attack and left. Anyway, thanks,” 

  
He holds his glass up slightly in thanks before scurrying away to sit with Jimmy and Nicola at the other end of the pub. She watches him go, biting down on her lip so that she doesn’t give in to the urge to call him back and ask him a dozen questions about Vanessa. 

  
Her head is spinning and she’s not entirely sure how she’s supposed to feel. She’s both relieved and furious that Vanessa hasn’t taken Debbie’s advice and left. Part of her feels anxious – the part of her that can’t stop loving Vanessa – because Jai had mentioned a panic attack and the thought of Vanessa being sad and upset makes her heart ache. But mostly, she feels angry. Angry that on her first day back in the village, Vanessa has chosen to spend time with Rhona before she’s even had the decency to talk to Charity.

  
Grabbing hold of the cloth, she makes her way round the bar and begins wiping down the tables. If she doesn’t keep busy, she knows that she’ll start to spiral again. As she scrubs at the sticky beer stains, she chastises herself for even entertaining the notion that Vanessa might be back to put things right. After all, Charity hadn’t been important enough for Vanessa to stick around a year ago, so why would she be important enough to talk to now? With a heaviness in her chest, she resigns herself to the fact that her family had probably been right along. 

  
She’s been sat on the bench outside of the Woolpack for twenty minutes now, trying to summon up the courage to walk inside. Rhona had offered to stick around for moral support, but she knew that this was something she had to do by herself. They’d shared an emotional hug as Rhona had made her promise not to disappear again without saying goodbye.

  
Her eyes scan the familiar frontage of the pub before settling on the upper floor window to the bedroom that she had once shared with Charity. The curtains have changed, she notices sadly. She allows herself the brief indulgence of remembering the happier memories of that room, when their relationship had been new and exciting and loving Charity had been simple. Before the fire and Pierce and the cancer had made everything feel difficult and complicated. 

  
Waking up next to Charity had been her favourite thing. Stretching herself against the length of her body, pressing her lips and fingertips against her flesh, revelling in the warmth and softness of her skin. Every bed she has slept in since leaving Charity has been cold and empty. 

  
With a deep breath, Vanessa forces herself to her feet and makes her way to the front door, pushing them open and heading inside before she can change her mind. As she steps into the warmth of the pub, the familiarity of it all overwhelms her senses. The sound of friendly locals chatting and laughing, the familiar décor and the smell of Marlon’s cooking all leave Vanessa feeling like she is finally home.

  
Charity is no where in sight, so Vanessa pulls up a stool at the bar and waits. She spots Jimmy, Nicola and Jai across the room who smile and wave before whispering amongst themselves. Nicola looks positively gleeful, obviously expecting there to be some sort of conflict when Charity reappears behind the bar. Vanessa smiles weakly back at them as the knots in her stomach tighten.

  
When Charity appears in the doorway, her eyes lock onto her immediately and she freezes. Her expression is unreadable, but Vanessa can see the hurt in her eyes.  
“Hi Charity,” she manages to say, though her voice feels thick and clumsy in her mouth.

  
She watches nervously as Charity’s mouth opens to speak but no sound comes out. For a moment, she wonders whether Charity is going to walk over and hit her as something like anger flashes in her eyes. But instead, Charity simply turns and walks through into the back room, slamming the door behind her. 


	3. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charity and Vanessa try to work through their problems, but in the end it seems they require the intervention of two little boys in order to move forwards.

Vanessa is keenly aware of the fact that the whole pub has fallen silent. As she stares at the door Charity has slammed closed between them, she can feel everyone watching, waiting to see what she does. 

  
She knows that she has no right to push Charity, that she should wait until the other woman is ready to talk, but for some reason, she can’t bring herself to walk away.

  
Swallowing roughly, she slides off the bar stool and heads round the bar towards the back room. As she disappears from sight, she hears the conversations begin again in earnest – no doubt speculating about what had just happened.

  
With her hand poised on the door handle, she pauses.

  
Coming face to face with the memories of Pierce at Mulberry had been painful, but she had no doubt that what lay beyond the door in front of her would hurt her even more. It is always easier to place the blame at someone else’s doorstep, but far more difficult to see the pain you have caused another person and accept the responsibility of it entirely. She knows that in looking into Charity’s eyes, she will see the extent of her own cruelty staring back at her. 

  
Before she can pluck up the courage to do it herself, the door is opened for her and she’s momentarily stunned to see Chas. Clearly Charity has refused to come back into the pub and has called on her cousin to cover for her. Although her friendship with Chas predates her relationship with Charity, the coldness in the brunette’s eyes makes Vanessa take a step back. 

  
“You gave up your right to just walk into my home when you walked out on our Charity.” 

  
Chas folds her arms across her chest and doesn’t shift from the doorway, clearly expecting Vanessa to back off. There’s an anger in her eyes that Vanessa has seen directed at plenty of other people before, but never at herself. 

  
She had seen this before, of course – the Dingle’s closing ranks to protect one of their own. It’s on the tip of her tongue to point out the many times when she has been the only one on Charity’s side, but she knows that it won’t help her get through that door.

  
“Look, I just want to talk to her. There are some things I need to explain, things she deserves to know. If she tells me to get lost after that, I promise I’ll stay away.”  
Chas doesn’t look convinced, but after a moment of intense staring and sneering, she finally moves aside and lets Vanessa pass. 

  
“Hurt her, and I’ll hurt you,” she warns her before walking through to the bar to serve the customers that are waiting. 

  
Vanessa does not doubt Chas’ willingness or ability to make her suffer, but takes the risk anyway, pushing open the door and walking into the Woolpack’s living room.

  
Charity is standing at the kitchen window, her hands grasping the counter top so tightly that her knuckles have whitened. She’s clearly overheard the conversation between Vanessa and Chas because she doesn’t have to turn around to know that Vanessa is there.

  
“Say what you need to say then get out.” Her voice is hoarse, each word carefully considered, as if Charity is struggling to remain calm. 

  
Vanessa is no stranger to Charity Dingle’s anger. She remembers the first time they almost broke up after Vanessa had called the police about Bails and how Charity had threatened to drag her through the bar by her hair if she didn’t leave. It had amazed her then, how Charity could be the most soft and gentle woman she’d ever met but also the most brutal and cruel when she felt threatened. 

  
“Will you at least look at me, Charity?” 

  
Charity’s shoulders tense and then fall with a sigh. When she turns around, Vanessa is surprised to see that there is no anger in her eyes at all – only a pain so raw that it makes Vanessa’s chest ache. 

  
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she begins shakily, immediately frustrated by how weak and pathetic a simple ‘sorry’ sounds. “I wanted to explain why I left.”

  
Charity scoffs, “Right, well this should be good. Go ahead, explain away.”

  
She waves her hands, indicating that Vanessa has the floor before folding her arms back around her own body. 

  
“Can we sit?” Vanessa asks, nodding towards the sofa. 

  
Reluctantly, Charity moves towards the sofa and sits down, grabbing hold of one of the scatter cushions and holding it against her stomach like a shield. Vanessa takes the hint and sits down at the opposite end of the sofa, giving Charity plenty of space. Shyly, she glances at the other woman’s face. She doesn’t want to make the situation any more awkward by staring, but after a year of only seeing Charity in photographs she’d kept on her phone, seeing her in the flesh takes her breath away. 

  
“You’re staring,” Charity points out, and Vanessa blushes and looks at her lap. She had been imagining how this conversation would go for months. She’d played it out a million times in her head, but now that she was here, words seemed like the most hollow and meaningless things to convey everything she wanted to express. But words were all she had, so with a deep breath, she began.

  
“When I left, I thought that being here in the Village was the problem. In less than 8 months I’d lost my dad, been kidnapped, found out I had cancer and gone through chemo. Even when it was all over, I still felt like I was living in a nightmare. The only thing I could think to do was get away,”

  
She braves a glance at Charity then, but she simply nods, gesturing for Vanessa to carry on. 

  
“Anyway, going away didn’t help at all. If anything, it got worse. I was having panic attacks every time I left the house, having horrific nightmares, flashbacks, the lot. I stopped leaving the house. I couldn’t even take Johnny to school. Mum made me see a doctor and they referred me to a psychiatrist who told me it was PTSD. They put me on two different medications and sorted me out with therapy and that’s what I’ve been doing for the last 6 months – trying to get better.”

  
She pauses again, nervously looking across at Charity who seems deep in thought. She stands up then and walks towards the window, looking out onto the street. 

  
“You know Chas had PTSD right? She had it so bad, she ended up stabbing Diane. She didn’t leave the village and cut herself off from everyone though.”

  
Vanessa sighs, “I’m not saying the PTSD is an excuse for my walking away. How I left, some of the things I said, it was unforgivable. I didn’t want to accept that there was something wrong with me so it was easier to blame the village, or you. I’m so sorry, Charity. Truly I am.”

  
Charity is silent for a beat, and when she turns around, Vanessa can see the tears that she’s holding back and the tension in her jaw. More than anything she wants to walk over and wrap her in her arms. She had always wanted to be the person who eased Charity’s pain and hated the fact that she had now been the cause of it.

  
Perhaps, in reaction to Vanessa’s sympathetic gaze, Charity’s face hardens once more, though her voice tremors with emotion when she finally speaks.

  
“Obviously things have been really tough for you Ness, but sorry doesn’t really fix things. It doesn’t take back a year of… of… “

  
Charity can’t seem to bring herself to say any more. She brings her hands to her face, fingers pressing against her forehead and Vanessa hears the shaky breaths as she tries to regain some composure. 

  
“A year of what Charity?” she asks gently. Charity lowers her hands and laughs, but the laugh is hollow and her eyes are empty. 

  
“Remember when I said I wouldn’t be able to function without you?”

  
Vanessa nods, remembering clearly one of the many arguments they had had throughout her chemo. That particular fight had been over Johnny and Vanessa had been convinced that Charity didn’t want him. In therapy, Judy had suggested that after the Pierce ordeal and living in constant fear for Johnny’s safety, the idea of dying and leaving him was in fact a trigger and made her behave irrationally. There had been so many pointless arguments which Vanessa had started just to be able to scream at someone, and Charity had been the victim of most of them. 

  
“Well, it turns out I was right. If it wasn’t for Moses and Noah…”

  
Again, the thought is too painful for her to put into words, but Vanessa can see the hurt and the anger simmering beneath the surface. She tries desperately to think of something better than ‘sorry’ to say, but knows that there aren’t any words that can fix the damage she’s done.  
Instinctively, she stands and moves closer to Charity, watching her closely as her eyes widen but she doesn’t move away. Touch is the first language that every human being learns and sometimes it is the only language that Charity can hear. Throughout the three years they’d been together, so many apologies had been made with lips and palms and the closeness of flesh. Months before Charity had first uttered the words ‘I love you’ to Vanessa, she had shown her love fiercely in the bedroom. 

  
Tentatively, Vanessa reaches out and encloses one of Charity’s clenched fists in her hand. She swallows the gasp as the simplest of touches seems to burn through every nerve ending in her body. Charity doesn’t pull her hand away immediately. She allows Vanessa to loosen her fist just enough so that she can slide her fingers between Charity’s and press their palms together. 

  
When Vanessa finally finds the courage to look up into Charity’s eyes, she’s surprised to see them widen with fear, darting back and forth between Vanessa’s face and their hands. 

  
“I would give anything to take away the pain I’ve caused, Charity,” she whispers, rubbing a thumb back and forth across Charity’s knuckles. “You need to know that I hate myself for what I’ve done to you and the kids.”

  
Whatever spell the touch of Vanessa’s hand has cast on Charity seems to break then, as she pulls her hand back and moves quickly to the other side of the room. Vanessa watches as she paces back and forth, her lips moving soundlessly as if she is arguing with herself. Nervously, Vanessa shifts from one foot to another, waiting for her to speak.

  
She stops at the door that leads back out to the bar and opens it wide. Stepping to the side, she gestures for Vanessa to leave.

  
“I don’t hate you Ness. I don’t think I ever could. But too much has happened. It’s too broken, too messy… I can’t force you to leave, but at least try and stay out of my way, alright?”

  
She had hoped that she might be able to mend something, but she had known deep down that this outcome had been far more likely. 

  
“If that’s what you want, then of course. I’m sorry if I’ve made things worse by coming back.”

  
She doesn’t wait for a reply. As she heads back into the pub, she looks back only once, but the door has already been closed.

Vanessa sticks to her word and three days pass before Charity sees her again. Three days in which she drives herself crazy playing the conversation over and over in her head. She can’t help wondering how different things might have been if she had somehow known that PTSD was to blame for Vanessa’s erratic and irrational behaviour, and not just Vanessa realising that she no longer loved her. The latter had just been too easy to believe. After all, she had a reputation for screwing up relationships – especially the good ones. 

  
She watches as Moses builds up a pile of leaves on the roundabout before grabbing hold and running as fast as he can in circles. He giggles like crazy as the leaves fly off in all directions. As soon as the roundabout is empty, he starts all over again. Charity finds herself wishing she could find joy in things as easily as her youngest son. Noah tells her that Moses was sad in the beginning too, and she has vague memories of him crying for Vanessa and Johnny, but she had been too lost in her own grief to really hear it. 

  
A month ago, she had found a photograph underneath his pillow. It had been one of Vanessa and Johnny that had once been part of the family collage. When Debbie had come back, part of the intervention had been taking down all the photographs of Vanessa and throwing them out. Later that night, she’d fished all of them out of the bin and put them in a shoebox at the bottom of her wardrobe, unable to let go. Moses must have found them and stolen one. She hadn’t said anything to him and she’d left the photo where it was. Sometimes at night, she hears him talking to it. Telling Mummy Ness about what he did at school and telling Johnny that he misses him. 

  
Somehow, her little big ears hadn’t cottoned on to the fact that Vanessa and Johnny were back yet. Charity had been extra careful not to talk about it in front of him. After all, if Vanessa was going to leave again, what would be the point in breaking his heart all over again?

  
“Mummy Charity!” 

  
The familiar yet almost forgotten voice scatters her thoughts and she turns just in time to see Johnny hurtling towards the playground at record speed. Behind him, Vanessa is trying her best to sprint after him and stop him, but she’s obviously been to the shop and is weighed down with bags. He outmanoeuvres her easily. As Johnny gets closer, Moses realises who is it.

  
“Johnny!”he screams at the top of the lungs, “Mum, it’s Johnny, it’s Johnny!” 

  
He’s jumping up and down on the stop and waving his arms madly. Johnny is running so fast that by the time he gets to Moses, he can’t seem to stop himself. The boys collide and crash into the leaves at Moses’ feet giggling and hugging each other.

  
Vanessa finally catches him up, her hand pressed against her side as she tries to catch her breath.

  
“I’m so sorry,” she pants, “I tried to stop him but he’s so fast!”

  
Charity can’t help but smile at the state of her. Her cheeks have flushed bright red and her hair has been blown in every direction by the wind. For a split second, she forgets her anger and simply allows herself to look at the woman who had almost been her wife. Only Vanessa could make the dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards-look so adorable. 

  
Before she can remember herself, Johnny has barrelled over and flung his arms around her neck. The weight of him almost sends her flying off the swing backwards. She manages to clutch onto the chains just in time.

  
“Well hello to you too Johnnybobs! I’ve missed you!”

  
She hadn’t realised just how much until he was there, squeezing her so tightly that she could barely breathe. 

  
“I’ve missed you too mummy Charity,” he mumbles into her shirt before looking up and clutching her cheeks in both hands. He plants a sloppy kiss on her chin and she returns the favour on his forehead. 

  
“Mummy Charity,” he asks.

  
“Yes Johnnybobs?” she replies as her heart skips several beats. She hadn’t expected him to call her that. Somehow, she’d just assumed that Ness would have explained to him that Charity was no longer his mummy. 

  
“Please can I stay here with you and Moses? I don’t want to go back to Nana’s house.”

  
His big brown eyes gaze up at her imploringly, silently begging her to say yes. She looks up at Vanessa anxiously, unsure what to say. Vanessa smiles awkwardly before heading over to peel Johnny out of Charity’s lap.

  
“Hey, Johnny, let’s talk about this later yeah? We need to get this shopping back so Aunty Tracy can make dinner.”

  
Johnny squirms out of her grasp. He’s a good few inches taller than when Charity last saw him and clearly much stronger as Ness quickly loses the battle. Johnny runs back over to Moses and grabs hold of his hand.

  
“I’m not going. I want to stay here with Moses!” He crosses his arms defiantly across his chest and stamps a foot. Charity laughs as Moses watches him carefully before copying his movements exactly.

  
“Yeah!” he shouts at Ness, “you’re not taking my brother away again, I won’t let you!” He stands in front of Johnny then, protecting him from Vanessa who huffs out a deep sigh and looks hopefully to Charity for support.

  
She knows that she should agree with Vanessa. Having the boys get attached to each other again would only make it ten times more difficult when Vanessa left. But her neck is still warm from Johnny’s arms and she can’t bring herself to send him away.

  
“Leave him with us for a bit if you want. You know, while you take the shopping back.”

  
“Are you sure?” Vanessa asks apprehensively.

  
“Yeah, of course… no reason we should punish them for our mistakes is there?” 

  
Vanessa seems to understand what Charity is implying. PTSD or not, it was a simple fact that the way Vanessa had handled everything had meant a ridiculous amount of collateral damage. Even beyond Charity and the kids, she had abandoned friends and colleagues as well as her own sister. 

  
“Well, if you’re sure?” 

“It’s fine. Go, before your arms drop off.”

Charity watches as Vanessa shuffles back towards Tug Ghyll and even though she knows that she’s coming back, it still hurts to watch her leave.

By the time Vanessa returns, minus shopping bags and looking a little less like a scarecrow, Charity has helped both boys build a mountain of leaves and is watching them take it in turns to throw themselves into the middle of it. It is like no time at all has passed for either of them. They are so lost in their own fun that they don’t even look up when Vanessa returns. 

Charity retreats to the swing and waves her hand towards the empty one beside her. Cautiously, Vanessa sits. For a few minutes they sit in silence, swinging themselves back and forth gently and watching their sons play. 

“I don’t want you to take him away again,” Charity whispers, glancing sideways briefly to see Vanessa’s reaction. Ten minutes of watching Johnny and Moses play together has been enough for her to realise that she can’t be the reason that they lose each other again, no matter how much he hurts.

Vanessa turns to look at her, confusion in her eyes.

“But I thought you said…”

“I know what I said Vanessa, but look at them. They belong together.”

Vanessa turns her attention back to the boys, watching them intently as they throw leaves in each other’s faces and then laugh until there are tears in their eyes. 

“I don’t want to go. I want to stay. But only if you’ll be okay with it.”

Charity sighs. Living in the same village as Vanessa again with everything that has happened will not be easy. She knows that seeing her every day is going to hurt like hell. The selfish thing to do – otherwise known as the Charity thing to do – would be to tell Vanessa to leave. It would still hurt but in time, she would move on. But, thanks to Vanessa, Charity no longer sees the world in black and white. There is no right or wrong way to deal with this; no good guy or bad guy in this scenario; and love and hate have crossed the very fine line that divides them. 

“Then don’t go,” she whispers, turning to meet Vanessa’s eyes, glassy with tears and full to the brim with hope. She watches as her lower lip trembles slightly.

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.”

Charity searches her eyes for any signs that she’s lying and finds none. When something close to relief washes over her, she tells herself that she’s relieved for Johnny and Moses, and she almost believes it.


	4. Unbreakable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Vanessa officially returns to Emmerdale, it doesn't take long for both women to realise that what is between them is far from over.

It takes Vanessa a few weeks to make her move back to Emmerdale official. There are loose ends to tie up, bags to pack and a tearful goodbye to Judith who gives her the number of a therapist in Hotten who she says specialises in PTSD recovery. Vanessa asks her more than once if she thinks she’s making the right decision. Judith says only time will tell, but that she probably won’t make any more progress unless she does. 

  
The drive back to Emmerdale isn’t much more peaceful than the last. Although he is over the moon to be going back home, Johnny can’t quite understand why they have to go and live with Aunty Rhona instead of Mummy Charity, Moses, Noah and Sarah. 

  
“But why?” he asks, for what feels like the thousandth time. Vanessa tenses her jaw and grips the steering wheel tight. 

  
“I’ve told you already Johnny, mummy and Charity don’t live together any more. You’ll still be able to go round tomorrow and spend the day with them though.”

  
Charity always had Tuesdays and Thursdays off work so they’d arranged for Johnny to spend the day with Charity on Tuesdays and Moses to spend Thursdays with them. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Vanessa had asked if Noah and Sarah might want to join Moses, but Charity had said they weren’t interested. She hadn’t expected them to welcome her back with open arms, but it still stung to hear that they wanted nothing to do with her. 

  
“But why mummy? Don’t you love mummy Charity any more?” Johnny whined. 

  
“Of course I do.” The words spill out before she can stop and think of a more diplomatic answer. Grimacing at her own painful honesty, she hastily adds, “but it isn’t that simple.” 

  
Johnny looks at her as if she’s just told him that Santa isn’t real. 

  
“But if you love people, you want to be with them all the time. I love Mummy Charity and Moses and I want to live with them all the time!”

  
He folds his arms in front of him and sticks out his bottom lip. Glancing sideways at her son, Vanessa sighs dramatically before reaching round to the back seat and retrieving his tablet.

  
“Just play on this for a bit and stop asking so many questions,” she grumbles, turning up the volume on the radio. She has to change the channel several times before she finds a song that doesn’t remind her of Charity.

**********************************

The first thing that Charity notices about Johnny is that he talks an awful lot more than he used to. He had always been the quiet, unassuming child in a house full of noisy Dingles, but now she was having a hard time getting him to be quiet. Not that she was really trying that hard, she had missed his voice.

  
He had a lot to catch her up on anyway. A lot had changed in a year. By the end of their first day together she has learned that he now likes broccoli, can tie his own shoe laces, can ride a bike without stabilisers (though he still sometimes falls off), knows his 2 and 10 times tables, can make his own breakfast (as long as its cereal) and he really, really doesn’t like his Nana Woodfield.

  
“She smells funny Mummy Charity, like boiled sprouts. And she always says I have to go upstairs to play. And she shouts at Mummy. And she doesn’t like mess or too much noise. And she doesn’t give me a treat even if I finish all my dinner.” 

  
He barely pauses for breath as he lists the many things about Nana Woodfield that he doesn’t like and Charity can’t help but smile. Throughout his rant, he doesn’t once take his attention away from the lego castle he is building with Moses and Moses sits in stunned silence, simply listening to his brother.

  
“Was mummy happy there?” she asks, immediately chastising herself for turning the conversation to Vanessa. She had promised herself that she would focus only on Johnny today and not torture herself with wondering what the last year had been like for Ness.

  
“No, she was sad all the time,” he states matter-of-factly, “She cried all the time and had bad dreams and missed you.”

  
For a split second, Charity can’t breathe. She tries not to let the boys see how much Johnny’s words have affected her. 

  
“You know Johnny, sometimes grown ups just get sad. It might not be because mummy was missing us.”

  
She’s not sure who she is trying to convince more. Johnny tears his gaze away from his lego creation to look defiantly at Charity.

  
“She did too miss you. Whenever she waked up from a bad dream, she cried for you.”

  
Smiling weakly, Charity heads over to the kitchen and flicks on the kettle. She doesn’t really want a brew, but with her back to the boys, she can allow her face to temporarily crumple as she tries and fails to hold back the emotions that Johnny’s words have summoned up. 

After the castle has been built, she forces them to come and sit with her on the sofa while they watch a film. Johnny instinctively cuddles into her side, just like he always used to and Charity bends slightly to press her nose into his hair. They are still curled up together when the knock on the front door brutally reminds her that this day has only been temporary. She extricates herself from the boys who are so engrossed in the film that they haven’t even registered that someone is at the door.

  
Charity can’t help but smile at the sight of Vanessa on her doorstep, wearing several layers and a full set of knitted accessories. Despite the layers, she’s still shivering, her nose is bright red and the few wisps of hair that have escaped from her bobble hat flutter furiously around her face in the wind. For a moment, she can’t help but stare, but when a strong gust of wind takes her breath away, she remembers her manners.

  
“You should come in before you freeze to death, the film’s almost finished if you can wait for ten minutes?” 

  
Vanessa nods shyly, following Charity into the house. She removes her gloves, stuffing them into her coat pocket and then blows gently into cupped hands to try and warm them up. Her eyes dart curiously around the home they used to share, lingering on photographs that no longer contain her and on the new furnishings. 

  
“Has he been good?” she asks, cocking here head towards the couch. 

  
“Yeah, he’s been fine. Hasn’t drawn breath all day though,” she laughs, grateful that they can talk about the kids with minimal awkwardness.

  
“Oh, tell me about it, sometimes I bribe him just to be quiet for half an hour.”

  
“That’ll be my influence on your parenting skills then,” 

  
Vanessa laughs then, prompting the boys to turn around and shush them dramatically. Biting her lip to stop herself from laughing even louder, Vanessa lowers her voice slightly.

  
“Um, listen, there was something I wanted to ask you…” She looks down at her hands as they fiddle anxiously with the strap of her bag. Charity senses the shift into slightly more dangerous conversation territory but simply shrugs.

  
“Ask away,”

  
“Well, it’s just that Paddy wanted to meet and talk about me getting back to work at some point. I tried to sell him my share when I… well, when I left… but he couldn’t afford to buy me out and didn’t want me to sell to Jamie, so I’ve just been a silent partner. Anyway, he’s asked me to meet him in the pub tomorrow night, but I know you’re working and if it’s going to be too weird or whatever or it’s too soon, I can just ask him to come round to Rhona’s, I don’t mind… what are you smiling at?”

  
Charity finds herself grinning at Vanessa’s rambling, suddenly realising where Johnny gets it from. Vanessa, realising that she’s a source of amusement, stops abruptly. 

  
“Its your local Ness, you can go to the pub whenever you like, honestly it’s fine.”

  
Charity watches the tension disappear from Vanessa’s face as she realises that she’s probably been stressing about nothing. The truth is that being around Vanessa feels easy, almost too easy. For the past ten minutes she hasn’t had to fake a single smile, and as much as she knows she should probably keep some distance between them, she can’t help feeling drawn back into Vanessa’s orbit. 

  
For a moment, Vanessa just looks at her, and Charity recognises the softness in her eyes. A look that had always been just for Charity. The look that said ‘I love you’ without words. Swallowing roughly, she shifts her gaze back to the television and notices that the credits are rolling. Vanessa does the same, and the reality of their situation seeps back in slowly. Awkwardly, she makes a point of enthusiastically coaxing Johnny back into his shoes and coat whilst making a fuss over Moses and telling him she can’t wait to see him on Thursday. 

  
When they leave, Charity stands at the door just a little too long, watching them make their way back up to Smithy cottage. Occasionally they look back and wave, Johnny’s voice still discernable as he fills his mum in on everything they’ve done today. Charity thinks she can see Vanessa look back at her and roll her eyes before she finally closes the door.

  
And just like that, the house is empty and silent again. Debbie and the rest of the kids had invited themselves round to Wishing Well for dinner and weren’t due back until 8. The brief and fleeting feeling of warmth that Vanessa had bought into the house with her is gone, and Charity finds herself wanting it back. Never before has she been so hurt by someone she loves, and it goes against all of her old instincts to want Vanessa back this badly, but neither has she ever loved anyone so much that they are literally impossible to get over. 

  
“Will Johnny and Ness come back and live here soon?” Moses asks, having wandered over from the sofa to hold one of her hands in both of his.

  
“Maybe,” she whispers. 

  
“I’ll get the drinks in,” Paddy announces as they walk into the Woolpack the next evening. Vanessa quickly scans the room, but there’s no sign of Charity – only Bob behind the bar and Victoria bringing food out to waiting customers. She can’t help but feel disappointed and wonders whether Charity has swapped her shift to avoid her. 

  
Rhona guides her over to an empty booth whilst Belle, Jamie and Paddy bring the drinks over. Paddy and Jamie at least seem happy to have her back, though Belle avoids any attempt at eye contact and doesn’t speak to her directly. Clearly, her Dingle loyalties prevent her from welcoming Vanessa back with open arms and Vanessa feels almost relieved. Charity’s family didn’t have the best track record when it came to looking out for her, but if the amount of hostility she’s felt from the Dingle’s is anything to go by, they’ve clearly been supporting her through the last year. Better late than never, she supposes.

  
In the end, there isn’t much to talk about business wise. Paddy and Jamie have had no luck with locums since she’s been away and are more than happy for her to come back as soon as possible. Vanessa negotiates having Thursday as one of her days off so she can spend time with Moses, but is otherwise flexible and they agree that she’ll start on Monday, giving her the rest of the week to settle back into village life. Conversation soon turns to a general catch up. Jamie and Belle talk about their wedding plans whilst Paddy fills Vanessa in on what she missed when him and Chas got wed earlier that year. 

  
“It’s mad isn’t it. Everyone thought it would be you and Charity next, but we beat you to it…” 

  
Rhona kicks him under the table pretty hard and his hand flies to his mouth as he realises what he’s said. The rest of the table goes silent as Paddy proceeds to apologise profusely, his face getting redder by the second. 

  
“It’s fine Paddy, honestly, I don’t want anyone to feel like they can’t mention Charity around me, we’re getting on okay for the kids sake,” she assures him.   
Thankfully, Rhona changes the subject and starts talking about how things are going at the farm. Vanessa tries to follow the conversation, but something draws her attention towards the bar and she looks up just in time to see Charity emerge from the back room. Almost immediately, she clocks Vanessa and smiles in her direction before turning her attention to waiting customers. Looking around at her table of friends, she notices that their drinks are almost empty.

  
“I’ll get the next round,” she mutters, collecting up the few empties and turning down all offers of help. Rhona glances at the bar and shoots Vanessa a look that feels almost like a warning.

  
Charity is serving Eric and Rodney at the opposite end of the bar when she reaches it and Bob clearly thinks he’s doing Vanessa a favour when he rushes over to serve her instead. Ordering the drinks, she’s relieved when he heads over to the pump to start pouring out 5 pints. Finally, Charity manages to free herself from other customers and starts giving Bob a hand. He looks anxiously between both of them, clearly confused as to why the situation isn’t as awkward as he’d been expecting it to be.

  
“Look Bob, why don’t you go on your break?” Charity suggests. She releases the pump temporarily to gesture at the fairly quiet pub. With just enough brain cells to know when he’s in the way, Bob nods and thanks her before hurrying into the back room. 

  
“So what scintillating conversation have you just escaped from?” she asks with a cheeky grin. 

  
“Oh you know, farm business, wedding plans and how many teeth Eve has now mostly…”

  
Charity rolls her eyes and gives her a knowing smile.

  
“If I have to hear our Belle talk about flower arrangements and wedding favours one more time, I’m going to scream,” she stage whispers.

  
Vanessa looks back over at her friends and sighs.

  
“Actually Jamie’s doing all the talking. Belle won’t even look at me.”

  
Charity goes quiet for a moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she pours the fourth pint. When she places it in front of Vanessa, she reaches over the bar and places her hand over Vanessa’s. The sensation sends an electric shock through Vanessa’s body and she can’t help but look at Charity, wide eyed and hopeful. 

  
“I’ll have a word with them. All of them. Promise.” 

  
Vanessa opens her mouth to respond but no sound comes out. Charity is looking at her – like really looking at her – and she realises in that moment that Charity is probably the only person in her life who has ever truly seen her. She feels the sudden, desperate urge to blurt out a thousand inappropriate things, instead swallowing the ache in her throat down.

  
“Thanks,” is all she says as she starts gathering the pints and makes two trips to deliver them back to the table. 

  
As soon as she sits down with her own pint, she notices that everyone at the table is staring at her. She wonders if she’s missed a question or something, because if she was being honest, she hadn’t really been listening to anyone. She’d been far too focussed on trying not to stare at Charity and keeping her mouth shut.

  
“What?” she asks, beginning to squirm under their scrutiny. 

  
“What was that?” Rhona gasps, pointing towards the bar. 

  
“Um, it was my round?” Vanessa laughs awkwardly, feigning innocence. 

  
“I don’t think so,” Paddy interjects, “There was heart eyes and hand holding – we all saw it!”

  
His voice gets louder and more indignant and she has to shush him when she spots Charity turning to look over out of the corner of her eye. 

  
“Oh behave,” she groans, ducking her head slightly so that they can’t see the blush she can feel creeping up into her cheeks. “We were just talking, that’s all.”

  
It takes a while, but she eventually manages to steer everyone back towards a conversation that doesn’t include her. After Belle and Jamie go to get the third round in, Belle is much more smiley with her and even makes an effort to include her in the conversation. Vanessa smiles at Charity gratefully and gets a wink in return that makes her face heat up all over again. 

Vanessa and Rhona walk slowly back to Smithy Cottage after their third pint, knowing that Marlon will be bringing the boys back bright and early the next morning. Rhona loops her arm around Vanessa’s and nudges her sharply in the ribs.

  
“So lady, are you going to tell me what that was really about in there?”

  
Vanessa is grateful for the darkness then, because she knows that the alcohol has made it impossible for her to lie or keep a straight face. She melts immediately.

  
“Oh Rhona, I still love her. I don’t think I ever stopped. It was easier to convince myself I didn’t when I didn’t see her every day, but I can’t actually be around her and not want to kiss her. What am I going to do?”

  
She’s well aware that she’s whining as much as Johnny now and the beer has made her legs wobbly so that she’s forced to lean against Rhona as they stagger up the path to the cottage. Rhona manages to get the key in the lock on her second attempt and Vanessa immediately heads through the kitchen to the living room and throws herself face down onto the sofa.

  
Rhona perches on the coffee table and can’t help but laugh at her friend who simply groans into the cushions. 

  
“If you love her, you should tell her. I’m pretty sure she’s still mad about you, too.” 

  
Forcing her head up, she fixes Rhona with a glare. 

  
“It’s not that simple, Rhona. I’ve hurt her too much. When have you ever known Charity to forgive something as big as this?”

  
There was a long line of men that had made the mistake of upsetting Charity in the past and had lived to regret it. And the worst of it was that Vanessa had vowed to herself that she would never hurt Charity the way the men in her life had. Not just out of fear of revenge, but because she had been determined to show Charity that she was deserving of love and worthy of being cherished and respected. Only she had broken her heart in the end too. 

  
“You’re right, Ness. Charity has never been the forgive and forget type. But then, she’s also never really loved anyone like she loves you either. Maybe the normal rules don’t apply?”

  
Vanessa’s reply is muffled as she turns her face back into the cushions before pushing herself back up off the sofa and into a sitting position.

  
“So you think I should try and fix things?” she mumbles.

  
“I think you’d be crazy not to try.”

****************

  
Charity finds herself humming as she washes the breakfast dishes the next morning. She doesn’t realise that she’s doing it until she turns around and sees everyone watching her, looks of horror and confusion on their faces. 

  
“What’s put you in such a good mood?” Debbie asks, clearly suspicious. She can’t remember the last time her mum had hummed anything, let alone cracked a genuine and believable smile. Of course she isn’t daft, and the fact that her mum’s cheerfulness has coincided perfectly with Vanessa’s return hasn’t escaped her. Still, she’s not daft enough to confront her about it in front of the kids. 

  
“Do I need a reason to be in a good mood?” Charity asks, drying her hands on the tea towel before throwing it back on the counter. She helps Debbie to make the packed lunches and joins the hunt for Jack’s left school shoe before finally waving them all off as Debbie drives them to school and college. 

  
She’s just settling down with a brew to watch something mindless on Netflix when Debbie returns, slamming the door closed before collapsing on the couch beside her mother. 

  
“Everything okay? Only I thought you were working today…” Charity asks, unsure if Debbie’s obvious frustration is aimed at her or something one of the kids has done on the way to school.

  
Pressing her finger tips into her temples, Debbie turns to look at her mother, shaking her head.

  
“You’re going to get back with Vanessa aren’t you?” she asks. 

  
Charity is momentarily stunned. As perceptive as her daughter is, she doubts that even Debbie would reach that conclusion simply from hearing Charity hum. 

  
“Belle text me last night. Said you were being all flirty with Vanessa. I didn’t want to believe it, but here you are, all smiles and cheerfulness.”

  
Of course Belle had told Debbie. In the Dingle family, there was no such thing as privacy. Everyone knew everyone else’s business and keeping secrets was practically blasphemy. Charity glances at the door that Debbie had just stormed through, expecting to see a line of Dingles file in and join in with the interrogation. 

  
Charity had long since given up lying to her daughter. Despite the many obstacles in their relationship, Debbie knew her mother better than anyone and usually knew what was going on in her mind before Charity did. 

  
“Look Debbie, all I know is that I thought I’d hate her if she came back and I didn’t – I couldn’t hate her. And I honestly thought I could never get past what she did, but then she explained everything and I kind of understood. I wasn’t happy about it, but I know that she never meant to hurt me. I should have known that she never would.”

  
Debbie sighs and covers her face with her hands, not wanting to believe what she’s hearing. 

  
“For gods sakes Mum,” she hisses through her fingers, “do you not remember the hell you’ve – we’ve all been through this past year? And what, just like that, you forgive her and want to welcome her back with open arms?”

  
Charity’s eyes dart around the room, anxiously avoiding her daughter’s gaze. She knows that it sounds mad and that it goes against every instinct in her body to want Vanessa back, but for once in her life, love seems to be stronger than her thirst for revenge. 

  
She had plotted her revenge, of course, though never seriously and never to the same extent as what she had done to Rachel and Jai. At one point, in the midst of one of her many drunken stupors, she’d banged on Tracy’s door in the middle of the night until she’d opened it. She’d demanded Vanessa’s address, fully intending to go there, drop a load and then set it on fire on her doorstep. She’d wanted to do that to someone ever since Vanessa had made her binge watch Orange is the New Black with her during her chemo. Vanessa, of course, had immediately regretted her decision because Charity had proceeded to compare almost everything in the show to her own prison experience. 

Anyway, thankfully Tracy had refused to give Charity the address and the urge to leave a stinking pile of her own poo on Vanessa's doorstep had eventually passed.

“What if she breaks your heart again?” Debbie asks, “What if she leaves again?”

  
“Woah, Debbie, hold your horses. I don’t even know if she feels the same way. And I know we can’t just pick up where we left off as if nothing even happened. There’d be a lot to talk about – we’d have to figure out if we can even trust each other again.”

  
Debbie seems relieved.

  
“I just want you to be happy Mum. If Vanessa is what makes you happy then I’ll learn to live with that, but you guys need to sit down and talk this through properly first.”

  
Charity smiles at her daughter – ever the voice of wisdom in a crisis. She knows that she is right, but the thought of facing things head on and asking the tough questions fills her with anxiety. 

  
“I will talk to her about stuff, I promise, just not right now.”

  
When Debbie finally leaves, Charity pulls out her phone and opens up her contacts. She stares at Vanessa’s phone number for a good few minutes, before pressing the message icon and hurriedly typing out a message before she can change her mind.

  
_I’m just about to re-watch OITNB. Want to join?_

  
Almost immediately, the three dots appear as Vanessa types out a reply.

  
_I’d love to, if you’re sure? I’ll bring snacks._

Charity quickly types back 'I'm sure' and receives a thumbs up emoji in response. Deep down, she knows that it's probably total madness to even consider working things out with Vanessa. All she knows for sure is that being around Vanessa makes her happy and she doesn't have the energy or the inclination to deny herself that happiness.


	5. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa and Charity finally reach an understanding.

“We’re out of tea bags!”   
  
Her dad’s disembodied voice echoes through the garage. After arriving a little late, Debbie had taken over fixing the car he’d been working on and sent him off to make a brew. Rolling her eyes, she puts down the wrench and wipes her hands on her overalls.

  
“I’ll nip to David’s and get some,” she shouts back.

  
He ambles over, passing her a £5 note from petty cash before picking up the wrench and getting back to work on the car. 

  
“Oh, I forgot to ask, how’s your mum doing? Is Vanessa still alive?”

  
If anyone knows the wrath of a jilted Charity, it’s her dad. The last time he’d left her, she’d rolled his car into a quarry and faked her own death. Like the rest of the family, he was eagerly anticipating what kind of twisted revenge would befall Vanessa. She contemplates filling him in, telling him that far from plotting revenge, her mum’s already mooning over Vanessa again as if she hadn’t completely destroyed her life. She decides against it.

  
“Not yet, but it’s only Thursday,” she laughs before heading off towards the shop. 

  
A flash of yellow in the corner of her eye stops her before she reaches the main road. Looking up, she blinks a few times to make sure she isn’t hallucinating and then squints to make sure she isn’t seeing things. She isn’t. The bright yellow coat and swinging blonde ponytail are unmistakably Vanessa. Leaning against the wall, Debbie watches as she heads straight for Jacob’s Fold, pausing for just a minute before knocking on the door.

  
When her mum answers the door they both stand there awkwardly. Her mum’s arms are folded defensively across her chest and for a moment, Debbie hopes that she’s going to tell Vanessa to get lost. After a minute or so, her mum steps to the side and waves Vanessa in before closing the door behind them.

  
She’s always had front row seats to her mother’s disastrous love life. Has watched countless men try to own her, control her and use her. They’ve all paid for it in the end. Declan will probably spend the rest of his life on the run whilst Jai went years without seeing Archie thanks to her mum’s meddling. The only one she’d ever really forgiven for hurting her was her dad, and she’s pretty sure that’s only because they share a child and grandchildren. 

  
And then along came Vanessa. To look at her, you wouldn’t think the tiny, kind hearted vet had it in her to put up with her mum, but after a rocky start, she’d proven herself more than capable of handling Charity. Debbie didn’t think she’d ever seen her mum so in love with another human being before and she had long given up on expecting her mum to change.

  
Everyone thought Vanessa was good for Charity – everyone said that she’d changed her, but Debbie knew better. Vanessa hadn’t changed her mum at all. Rather, she’d simply taken the time to see what had always been there – hidden behind years of hurt and fear, and she’d simply loved all of her broken pieces back together. When she’d left for Scotland, she’d been sure that her would be okay as long as she had Vanessa. 

  
Noah’s phone call came out of the blue about two months after Vanessa left. He was threatening to drop out of college because he couldn’t manage the work as well as looking after mum and Moses. He was scared that social services might get involved and take Moses away if any teachers at college cottoned on to what was happening at home. She’d packed a case as soon as she hung up and set off home to Emmerdale the next morning.

  
She’d eventually gotten her mum to stop drinking and back to work, but she’d never been the same since. 

  
“Are you getting them tea bags or what?” Cain bellows. With a sigh, she pushes herself off the wall and makes her way slowly to David’s shop. With one last glance towards Jacob’s Fold, she promises herself that she won’t let Vanessa break her mum again.

  
The television was barely audible inside Jacob’s Fold. The bags of popcorn and chocolate sit unopened on the coffee table.

  
“I know what I said in my text,” Charity explains, handing Vanessa one of the mugs of tea she has made before sitting down at the opposite end of the sofa with her own. “But I think we should really talk. Like properly talk.”

  
Vanessa lets out the breath she’d been holding and looks relieved. 

  
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she admits, curling her fingers around the hot mug, smiling softly at how milky it is. 

  
Suddenly, with Vanessa sat right in front of her, a captive audience, Charity can’t think of a single thing to say. She sips at her tea slowly, trying to gather her thoughts into vaguely coherent words. Since Vanessa’s return, she has been all that Charity has been able to think about.

  
Vanessa seems to sense her struggle and breaks the increasingly awkward silence.

  
“How about you just ask me anything… anything at all… and I promise to be completely honest?”

  
Charity scoffs and rolls her eyes. Questions had been all she’d had left when Vanessa walked out. She’d tormented herself with them. Why had she left? Where was she now? What was she doing? When did she stop loving her? Too many nights she had cried herself to sleep wondering, and now here Vanessa was, promising her answers. The first question she asked, was perhaps the most painful question of all.

  
“Was any of it my fault?”

  
Vanessa’s face contorted immediately into utter disbelief, as though that had been the last question she’d expected Charity to ask. Almost instinctively, she reaches out to hold Charity’s hands but remembers herself at the last second and pulls back. 

  
“God, Charity, no! Absolutely none of this was your fault. You did absolutely nothing wrong!”

  
Charity flinches at the unwavering resolution of Vanessa’s words. When Vanessa had first left, there had been certain members of the family who wouldn’t believe that Charity was blameless. Even Noah had asked her a few times if she’d done something to make Vanessa leave, cheated on her or kept even more secrets from her. Both accusations had been completely unimaginable, but her family’s low expectations had planted enough seeds of doubt for her to torment herself for months, wondering if there was something she had done that had made Vanessa stop loving her. 

  
“It’s just that you said you didn’t know if you loved me any more, so I figured I must have done something…” Charity tries to keep her voice steady but hears it tremble slightly anyway. Looking away sharply, she takes in a deep breath. When she turns back, she can see that Vanessa is holding back tears as well and Charity finds herself mesmerised by adorable wobble of her bottom lip. 

  
“Charity, I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I ever will. It was this damn illness that had turned my brain inside out and back to front.”

  
It is as though she has been living in some sort of vacuum or bell jar without even realising it and suddenly, the lid has been lifted and she can breathe again for the first time. The relief is overwhelming – to finally know after all this time that she didn’t make Vanessa leave and that Vanessa never stopped loving her. 

  
But as is often the case, learning the answer to one question, only raises more questions. A familiar swell of anger takes up the space that her guilt has left behind. Years ago, she would have let it grow and consume her, but now she recognises it as an instinct, a reaction, and she tries her best to swallow it down. 

  
“So, when you got your diagnosis… you knew then that you still loved me?”

  
Vanessa seems to sense where Charity is going with this question, and for the first time in the conversation, her voice falters.

  
“Yes, I guess I did. I think I always knew, but my head was so full of other things that I couldn’t seem to remember.” 

  
Charity can feel the tension in her jaw as she pushes her tongue against her teeth, thinking carefully about what she’s saying and trying not to just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

  
“But you didn’t think about calling or even texting to let me know any of this?”

  
Shame creeps into Vanessa’s cheeks and she looks down at her lap. When she looks back up it is clear that she can no longer hold back the tears.   
“I picked up the phone a million times, Charity. I wrote you letters that I never sent. I spoke to Tracy about it once, briefly, but she got so angry at me and clearly thought it would be selfish of me to contact you, that I figured you were better off without me.”

  
Charity finds herself standing up then and moving swiftly to the kitchen. She flicks on the kettle simply to have something to do with her hands because she has the overwhelming urge to punch something. Vanessa stands but doesn’t follow her. She hovers anxiously by the sofa instead. Charity had welcomed honesty, but sometimes the truth hurts.

  
“So let me get this straight,” she snipes, “you’re blaming Tracy for the fact that you didn’t get in contact? Bullshit!” Her voice deepens as she speaks, the anger she’s been holding at bay swelling up in her throat and spilling out.

  
“How could you ever think that I was better off without you Vanessa?” The anger cracks then and Charity can feel hot tears on her cheeks. “I have never, in my whole life, been better off than I was when we were together. Without you, I was nothing!” 

  
Turning away, she wipes furiously at her face, angry not at Vanessa but at herself for showing weakness. For not being able to stop loving the woman that had made her this weak. For not being able to hate her like she’d hated everyone else that had exposed her weakness. 

  
Charity doesn’t know that Vanessa has moved closer until she feels her hand close around her arm, squeezing gently, urging her to turn around. Charity shrugs her off sharply, but Vanessa only reaches out for her again and this time, Charity lets her. Her fingertips seem to burn through the fabric of her shirt, and she can feel Vanessa in her bones and in her blood. 

  
When she turns to look at her, Vanessa has that look on her face – a knowing look – a look that says I see you. Charity’s breath hitches under the intensity of Vanessa’s gaze and it’s as though her blood ignites when Vanessa reaches up to gently thumb away the tears. When she speaks, her voice feels like an anchor and suddenly everything in her mind is still and quiet. 

  
“I love you Charity and I know I should have tried to fix things months ago, that I don’t deserve forgiveness. I have something for you though.”   
The warmth of Vanessa’s hand slips away then as she walks back over to the sofa to rummage in her handbag and Charity feels colder without it. When Vanessa returns, she’s clutching a stack of envelopes tightly against her chest.

  
“What are they?” Charity asks.

  
Vanessa holds them out for Charity to take. “They’re the letters I was talking about. The ones I wrote but never sent. I want you to have them.”

  
When she takes the letters, she’s surprised by how heavy they feel. She reckons there’s maybe 20 or 30 letters, held together with an elastic band, her address written neatly on the front of each envelope. It’s just paper and ink, but there’s an inexplicable weight to them, the weight of too many unspoken words. 

  
“I don’t know what to say,” she mumbles, genuinely unsure whether she should be thanking Vanessa or throwing the letters back in her face. It is hard to be angry when Vanessa is standing so close to her and looking at her in that way that makes her feel worth loving. 

  
“Don’t say anything. I’ll get Moses from school and I’ll send Rhona round with him later. If you read them and you want to talk about anything… you know where I am. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll do my best to keep my distance.”

  
Charity can only nod and watch as Vanessa gathers her things and with one last smile, slips out of the door. 

  
She reads them later that night, when everyone else is asleep. The first letter is dated January 9th 2021 and the last letter is dated September 10th, a month before Vanessa returned to the village. 

  
At first, the letters are little more than ramblings and it’s clear that Vanessa wasn’t well when she wrote them. They are confusing in places, as though her thoughts are so scattered and disjointed that she can’t seem to put them down on paper. She writes about nightmares where she’s trapped in Mulberry with Pierce, trying to find Johnny before he does. She never gets there first. Johnny is always dead when she finds him and Pierce is always laughing, taunting her and saying “You made me do this”. In some of those early letters, she begs Charity to make it stop. 

  
**_Why did I leave? I don’t feel safe anywhere without you._ **

  
Around March, the letters become more lucid. She starts to write about therapy and how Judith is helping her to untangle the trauma, as if it’s a thread that has weaved itself into her brain and tainted every good memory.

  
_**Everything was dark before. Like I was living in a black and white silent film. I could see you but I couldn’t hear you. I think if I’d been able to hear you, I would have found a way out sooner.** _

  
As the months progress, Vanessa finds a dozen new ways to apologise. She writes that she hardly has the nightmares any more, and instead she’s dreaming of Charity. 

_**I think in some ways they’re worse than the nightmares. Waking up used to be a relief, but now it’s just a reminder of everything I’ve thrown away.** _

  
The penultimate letter talks about how her therapist thinks she needs to come back and face her fears head on. She writes about what Tracy has said about it and wonders whether her greatest fear is facing the fact that she won’t be forgiven.

  
_**I don’t know if you’ll hate me, scream at me or just ignore me. I think the latter would be the worst because it would mean you feel nothing for me at all.** _

  
The last letter is the shortest. She’s coming back. She’s sorry. She doesn’t know what to expect, but if there is any way of making things right, she has to try.

  
Charity stares at the letters, spread out in front of her on the bed. The months before Vanessa left she had watched the woman she loved slowly shut down and disappear inside her own mind. She had begged Vanessa to let her in, to talk to her about things, to open up the box. She never had. But now, here was Vanessa’s deepest and darkest fears and thoughts, laid bare in each letter she had never been brave enough to send. Charity knows that in handing them over, Vanessa had played the final card that she held in her hand. She had laid everything on the table and risked having the worst and most frightening parts of herself thrown back in her face. 

  
Carefully, she gathers the letter together and puts them safely in her bedside table drawer. Reaching for her phone, she’s not surprised to see that it’s almost 2am. Some of the letters had been pages long and she had read them slowly, absorbing every word. She contemplates calling Vanessa, but it’s too late or too early and besides, she isn’t entirely sure what to say. I forgive you? I still love you? 

  
Instead, she switches off the lamp and opens up a folder of photos in her phone gallery that she hasn’t looked at in months – every photo of the two of them together that she’s ever taken. For the first time in a long time, she allows herself to remember how things used to be, before Pierce and before cancer. The last thought she has before drifting off to sleep is that remembering doesn’t hurt any more.

  
Charity’s text message had been brief and frustratingly vague considering the fact that Vanessa had left her with all those letters the day before. _**I need to see you**_. _**Woolpack 1pm?**_ Vanessa had sent an affirmative message back and proceeded to spend the rest of her morning feeling nauseous. She had no idea how Charity would feel after reading those letters or what it might mean for them. Short of handing over her kidneys, there was nothing else Vanessa could do or say. 

  
When she walks into the Woolpack, she’s not surprised to see that it’s busy. Everyone in the village seems to have popped in for their lunch and Chas and Mandy are rushed off their feet. Debbie and Cain are propping up the bar and turn to look at her as she approaches the bar.

  
“She’s in the cellar,” Debbie mutters, nodding her head in the general direction before fixing Vanessa with a cold stare. “You better not be screwing with her head again,” she warns. 

  
Shaking her head, Vanessa slowly heads through to the back, surprised when all she gets from Chas and Mandy are thinly veiled filthy looks. 

  
The cellar is just as she remembers it. Damp and draughty. But there are memories tied to this cold, grey room that make Vanessa’s toes curl with anticipation. She spots Charity immediately, sat on their chair, her elbows on her knees and the bundle of letters in her hand. Not sure that Charity has heard her come in, Vanessa clears her throat nervously and stops just a few feet away from her. Charity looks up briefly and Vanessa can see that she’s been crying. 

  
“You read them then?” she asks, swallowing roughly and glancing around the cellar anxiously.

  
“Yeah, I read them,” she mumbles, looking back down at the pile of papers in her hands. She pauses only for a second, but it feels like a lifetime to Vanessa as she waits for Charity to continue.

  
“I think I get it now. I think I understand,” she finally adds, exhaling deeply before pushing up off her knees and standing to face Vanessa. She’s close enough that Vanessa temporarily forgets how to breathe. Close enough that she can smell her perfume and shampoo and feel the heat of her body in that cold cellar. Something in the deepest part of her aches to move closer still, to grab hold of Charity and never be stupid enough to let go again. 

  
When Charity licks her lips before speaking again, Vanessa thinks she might just burst.

  
“And, you know, we definitely have a lot of talking to do, there’s so much in here that we need to talk about…” she husks, holding the letters up between them. “I mean, I forgive you for it all Ness, but I’m still not sure how we move forward from this or what it means for us…” 

  
It is as though someone has just plunged her heart into ice as she registers the doubt in Charity’s words. Tearing her eyes from Charity’s lips to look her in the eye, she searches desperately for some clue as to whether she has misread the signals. Charity looks completely serious, but when Vanessa moves to take a step back, Charity grabs hold of her hands to keep her still. 

  
“Can we not talk about it all right now though?” she asks, her hands moving slowly up Vanessa’s arms and over her shoulders.

  
“Can I just kiss you instead?” 

  
Her hands move slowly then, fingertips brushing gently over her collarbone and up her neck before sinking into her hair. Vanessa can’t stop the moan that escapes her lips as she closes her eyes, sinking into the sensation of Charity’s touch. For so long, all she’d had were memories of this. Memories that she had played over and over in her mind, convinced that they were all she’d ever have again. 

  
And there is something almost holy about being touched by Charity Dingle – something restorative. As though she has been drowning for all these months, trapped under the surface until Charity had put her hands on her and pulled her out. And when Charity kisses her, it’s as though she’s breathing for the first time.   
The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as they refamiliarise themselves with each others lips. After a while, Vanessa runs her tongue teasingly along Charity’s bottom lip, and Charity groans hungrily as the kiss deepens. 

  
“I love you so fucking much Ness,” Charity gasps, as they part, her pupils blown and lips swollen. 

  
“I love you too,” she breathes, pushing her hands up under Charity’s shirt and round to her waist. With a little shove to get her moving, she guides Charity back to the chair, to their chair. Realising what Vanessa is doing, Charity lowers herself into the chair before Vanessa can push her down, sliding her hands up Vanessa’s thighs as she places a knee on either side of Charity’s hips. 

  
“I’ve missed this,” Charity husks, as her hands roam over Vanessa’s bum and up under her jumper, her eyes locked onto Vanessa’s mouth as Vanessa leans in to kiss her again.

“They’ve been gone a while,” Cain mutters, pointing towards the cellar.

  
“Tell me about it,” Chas huffs, pouring him another pint. “Knew it was too good to be true, this not skiving thing she’s been trying.” 

  
“Maybe she’s killed her and she’s hiding the body in the empty barrels,” Debbie smirks, only half joking. 

  
“Wouldn’t put anything past your mum,” Cain laughs.

  
Before anyone else can respond, Paddy lumbers in through the front doors looking flushed and annoyed.

  
“What’s the matter Pads?” Chas asks, handing Cain’s pint to him and holding out her hand for the money. When he drops the money into her hand, she heads over to the till where Paddy has stopped, hands on the bar and trying to catch his breath.

  
“You’ve not seen Vanessa have you? She was due back off her lunch half an hour ago and Mrs Davenport is waiting for her to castrate Fluffy. I’ve tried Smithy, but no one’s answering and Jamie’s on a course and I’ve got a call-out so if she doesn’t come back soon, I’m going to have to cancel one of them…”

  
“Whoah, Paddy, breathe,” Chas laughs, ringing through Cain’s pint and throwing the change into the till. “She’s in the cellar with Charity, I think they’re having an argument or something because they’ve been gone for ages.”

  
Paddy’s face goes even redder then. “Couldn’t they have chosen a more convenient time to have a bloody domestic,” he huffs as he charges round the bar and heads for the cellar, muttering to himself as he goes.

  
“Wants to calm down he does,” Cain grumbles, “dangerous business getting so stressed at his age.”

  
He manages to duck just in time to miss his sisters hand as she attempts to give him a clip round the ear.

  
Before Chas can open her mouth to tell him off, a high pitched squeal from the cellar stops them. The whole pub goes quiet as customers turn to look in their direction. 

  
“Maybe he’s found the body,” Debbie jokes. 

  
Moments later, Paddy reappears, muttering angrily to himself and making strange gestures with his hands. He doesn’t stop to explain, charging round the bar and back out of the doors which swing shut behind him. Debbie, Cain and Chas look at each other, none of them entirely sure what has just happened. 

  
A few moments later, Vanessa appears looking flustered. Her pony tail is half pulled out, and there’s already a rather large bruise forming on her neck. She doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as she follows in Paddy’s footsteps. 

  
“Was that what I think it was?” Chas asks the other two, but Cain and Debbie simply stare at her, their eyes wide and completely speechless.

  
Charity appears a few minutes later looking equally dishevelled. 

  
“What was all that about?” Debbie asks, eyebrows raised in question as Charity smooths down her shirt and smiles sheepishly at her family.

  
“Oh nothing, we just had a lot of things to talk about,” she insists, “Paddy was just annoyed because Vanessa was late back, that’s all.”

  
“What made him squeal like a girl then?” Cain asks.

  
“Um, he saw a spider… actually, the spider was on his arm. Didn’t know he was so scared of the things,”

  
“He isn’t,” Chas replies, staring at her cousin. 

  
Sliding off her stool, Debbie drinks the last dregs of her pint and puts on her coat. 

  
“I need to get back to work,” she mutters, already heading for the door. Before she leaves, she turns back to look at her mum. “You’ve buttoned your shirt up wrong by the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if this is a good place to end it or whether to do one or two more chapters. Open to suggestions! Thank you for reading and comments, as always are really appreciated.


	6. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charity and Vanessa tell their family about their decision to rebuild their relationship.

“What was that?”

Vanessa sits bolt upright in bed, shuffling backwards until her back is pressed against the headboard as she gently pushes Charity’s head from between her legs. 

Wiping her chin on the duvet, Charity huffs and begrudgingly pushes herself up into a sitting position. She indulges Vanessa for a moment, making a point of holding a cupped hand to her ear as she listens for any noise. 

“I can’t hear anything,” she whispers dramatically. 

Vanessa rolls her eyes, “I definitely heard the door, someone’s home.”

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps on the stairs has them both scrambling for the duvet. As Vanessa tugs the duvet up and over her head, she pulls it from beneath Charity’s knees where she’s balanced precariously at the foot of the bed. She hits the floor with a thud, landing awkwardly on her hip. She grimaces, trying not to make any noise. The footsteps stop outside her door anyway.

“Mum, is that you? Are you alright?” Noah yells through the door.

“Shit,” Charity whispers, scrambling to her feet and limping towards the door where her dressing gown is hung up. Sliding into it, she opens the door just a crack to see her now adult son looking concerned.

“Yeah Noah, it’s me, I’m fine, just tripped over a shoe. Thought you were in college all day today?” 

His eyes narrow suspiciously and she can tell that he doesn’t believe her, but he allows her to change the subject anyway.

“There was a power cut,” he grumbles, “so they had to shut the open day early. Are you sure your okay? That was a pretty loud bang.”

Charity shrugs, “Just banged my hip, will probably have a decent bruise tomorrow, but no real harm done.” 

Noah stares at her for a few seconds, clearly trying to decide whether the story she has made up on the spot is believable enough. Charity feels her throat drying up as she waits for him to speak. 

“Well, as long as your okay,” he shrugs eventually. “Anyway, I’m going to go and play World of Warcraft with Jacob for a bit so knock loudly if you need me.” 

“Yeah, course, no worries – don’t forget to eat at some point,” she reminds him, knowing that once he’s lost in some dungeon with Jacob, he can go hours without surfacing for food. He nods and heads into his own room, closing the door firmly behind him. Exhaling loudly, she closes her own door before staggering back to bed. 

She flinches as she crawls back up onto the bed, falling onto her back and rubbing at her hip. Vanessa emerges from beneath the duvet, shuffling over to Charity’s side. Lifting her hand from her hip, she inspects the damage before leaning in to kiss the already purpling skin. 

“You’re going to have a nice bruise I reckon, but you’ll live…” she whispers, stroking the area with her thumb. “That was a close one,” she murmurs, looking anxiously at the door. 

“Well, it wouldn’t have been, if you hadn’t thrown me off the bed!” Charity laughs, giving Vanessa’s shoulder a playful shove. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just thought I should hide in case someone came in,” she whimpers guiltily, pouting slightly in a completely transparent attempt to earn Charity’s forgiveness by looking adorable. Grumbling, Charity shakes her head before bringing a hand to Vanessa’s chin and pulling her closer so she can kiss her. 

“It’s fine babe, but for future reference, this duvet doesn’t make you invisible. Pretty sure if he’d come in, he’d have spotted the human shaped lump under the covers.”

For someone so frustratingly smart, Vanessa can be pretty dense sometimes, especially when it comes to being sneaky, which is exactly why Charity knows that they are going to have to talk to the kids sooner or later. 

Easing herself onto her side, she encourages Vanessa to lie back down too before aimlessly tracing circles around Vanessa’s belly button. Vanessa is staring at her, the anxiety of almost being caught fading away under Charity’s touch. Her gaze is intense and Charity wonders when Vanessa is going to stop looking at her like this – as though Charity might disappear completely if she blinks for too long. 

It had only been two days since Paddy had caught them in the cellar and Charity had sworn Chas, Debbie and Cain to secrecy, at least until she and Vanessa had had a chance to figure out what they were telling the boys. 

Pressing herself flush against Vanessa’s side, Charity leaves a trail of kisses along Vanessa’s jawbone before resting her head on an upturned hand and smiling. She had missed this. Not just the sex – although she had missed that something awful – but the moments after sex when it was just them, wrapped up together in their little post-orgasmic bubble.

“Would it really be the worst thing in the world if they knew? Debbie, Chas and Cain won’t be able to keep their gobs shut for long and I’m sure Paddy will need some sort of therapy after the other day so can’t see him keeping quiet.”

Vanessa snorts before her hand flies to her mouth to muffle the giggle that erupts. 

“Oh god, Paddy’s face… you know he couldn’t look at me all day yesterday!” 

Charity buries her face in Vanessa’s shoulder, chuckling softly before turning slightly to kiss her collarbone. Paddy had made a habit of catching them in the act ever since their first kiss four years ago, but when he’d walked into the cellar on Thursday, he’d definitely got more than an eyeful. Thankfully Charity had had her back to him, preserving Vanessa’s dignity and after his initial squeal of surprise, he’d promptly covered his eyes with his hands so that Charity could remove her fingers and they could make themselves presentable. 

“Poor Padster eh?” Charity chuckles. “Having to go back to Chas’ skinny arse after getting an eyeful of mine.”

Vanessa swats at her arm reproachfully but Charity can see that she’s fighting the urge to smile. Sliding her hand under the dressing gown that Charity’s still wearing, Vanessa palms Charity’s bum, squeezing playfully.

“He better not be thinking about your arse or I’ll have to have words.” 

Charity leans in to kiss her then, because there’s something about Vanessa being protective of Charity’s body and just ever so slightly jealous that always makes her feel embarrassingly warm and fuzzy. 

When she pulls away, she smirks at the hunger in Vanessa’s eyes, smug that even after all this time apart, she still has this effect on her. Taking advantage of

Vanessa’s current state of vulnerability, Charity slides her hand over Vanessa’s waist and tugs her close enough so that she can feel how much Vanessa wants her.

Teasingly, she begins to kiss Vanessa’s neck, starting behind her ear and working her way slowly downwards to the dip of her collarbone. 

“Vanessa?” she mumbles between kisses, receiving only a gravelly hum in response. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” she asks, before dragging her tongue over an erect nipple. 

Vanessa releases a deep, guttural moan before she has a chance to process what Charity has said. When she does, the moment is lost as she shuffles into a sitting position, looking seriously at Charity.

“Are you sure? Is it not too soon?” 

She had been expecting Vanessa to laugh at the silliness of the question – at the idea of asking someone you’ve loved for 4 years and were almost married to if she’ll be your girlfriend was surely a rhetorical question. But Vanessa is dead serious. 

“What do you mean too soon?” she asks, suddenly panicking that Vanessa is having second thoughts about getting back together. 

Sensing Charity’s panic, Vanessa reaches out for her hand. 

“I just mean that you say you forgive me, but what if you realise after a few weeks that you can’t actually forgive me?”   
Charity scoffs, “Like I did with Jai, you mean? Babe, come on… it’s not like you ran off and got someone pregnant or cheated on me. You were genuinely ill. It’s completely different!”

Charity had forgotten just how insecure Vanessa really was. She hid it well but you only had to look at how she’d behaved during the whole Mike scam or after Cain had tried to kiss her the day after she’d proposed to see that Vanessa was always worrying that she might lose Charity. 

“Really?” Vanessa’s voice is small and painfully hopeful. “Are you really sure this is what you want?”

“Babe, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. Come here…”

The kiss is slow and sensual at first as Charity captures Vanessa’s bottom lip between her own, tugging it gently. Their tongues shyly seek out each other’s before sliding together. Charity slides her thigh between Vanessa’s and gasps at the heat she feels against her skin. 

And in that moment she knows that she really is sure. Charity Dingle had never been a prude, had always been fully aware of the power of her own sexuality, but before Vanessa, sex had always felt like a transaction. A way of controlling the narrative of her relationships and keeping the upper hand always. It had been the same with Vanessa at first – until Vanessa had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in games. 

Sex with Vanessa was something completely different to everything she’d experienced before. She felt safe with Vanessa in her bed – safe enough to ask for what she wanted, to let herself go completely. No one before Vanessa had taken the time to learn her body, discover the secret places that made her weak and breathless. No one before Vanessa had put Charity’s pleasure before their own. 

Before Vanessa, sex had been something you did for love, but with Vanessa, it was something you did because of love. 

When Vanessa’s hand slides between her legs, she knows exactly how to touch her to make her whimper. Knows how to tease her just enough to make her come over and over, until she cries at the intensity of it. 

  
“I really have to go, Charity,” Vanessa whimpers, trying to put her trousers on while Charity kneels behind her on the bed, thighs tightly gripping her hips and her teeth grazing her still bare shoulder. 

“I don’t want you to go though,” Charity simpers, reaching around her waist and pulling her back into her arms. 

“Debbie will be home with the kids, and Rhona will be wondering where I am…” she groans, but she’s stopped trying to fasten her jeans and she thinks she’d stay in Charity’s bed forever if she asked her to. But Charity eventually loosens her grip, shuffling back to the pillows where she sits, arms folded and pouting adorably. 

“Then why can’t we just tell them all?” she whines.

“You know that everyone will have an opinion right? Your family hate me and will try and talk you out of it.” She reaches over and places a hand on Charity’s thigh.

“And even if we convince them not to hate me, there’ll be questions… are we moving back in together? Are we engaged again? Are we getting married? Don’t you want just a little bit of time to try and work that stuff out without all that pressure?”

Charity huffs and turns away, shaking her leg gently to dislodge Vanessa’s hand. Sometimes Vanessa thinks that Charity’s early experiences in life made her grow up way too fast, but at times like this, she thinks she can still see that 13 year old girl who just wants to be loved and wanted. 

Crawling back onto the bed, she places a finger beneath Charity’s chin and gently urges her to face her. 

“Do you need time?” Charity mumbles, her eyes glistening with tears and Vanessa feels her heart plummet to her stomach. 

“Not at all. I’ve had plenty of time, remember. I know without a doubt that all I want is you and our children. I want to grow old with you Charity. But, you should think about it, at least for a day or so, don’t you think?”

She seems calmed by Vanessa’s declaration. Wiping at her own cheeks, she nods. 

“I don’t need time, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll wait one more day.”

  
When she slips out of the back door of Jacob’s Fold and begins her walk back to Smithy, Vanessa glances over at Mulberry with a smug grin. 

Family meetings almost always mean someone is dying, dead already or going to prison, so when his mum knocks on his door and asks him to come downstairs to attend one, Noah immediately starts to feel queasy. 

Downstairs, his anxiety only grows when he sees the bowls of sweets that his mum has laid out on the kitchen table. His mum always bought him sweets when she had something to tell him that he probably wasn’t going to like hearing. 

Cautiously, he grabs a handful of flying saucers before throwing himself down into the armchair and popping one at a time into his mouth in quick succession. Sarah, Ryan and Debbie are sitting on the sofa already whilst Moses and Jack are sat in front of the TV, cross legged and glued to the screen. 

“What’s this about then?” he asks his siblings and niece.

Sarah shrugs without even looking up from her phone. 

“No idea mate,” Ryan mutters, peering over his shoulder at their mother who is pacing between the front door and the kitchen table. She alternates between looking anxiously at the clock and craning her neck at the window to glance up and down the street. Noah does a quick head count and is fairly certain that all of his siblings are in the room – though you never really know with the Dingle family when another long lost sibling or cousin is going to pop up out of nowhere. 

When his mum finally rushes to the front door and opens it before their visitor can even knock, the last person he’s expecting to walk in is Vanessa. But there she is, looking terrified and clutching onto Johnny’s hand like he’s her lifeboat or something. 

His mum ushers them in and immediately Johnny makes a bee-line for Noah who cautiously hugs him whilst not taking his eyes off his mum and Vanessa. Johnny’s only been back for a few weeks, but it’s like he’s never been away. He’s fitted right back in to their family as if it’s where he’d always belonged and Noah has loved every minute of it. 

Suddenly, fear grips him and he peels Johnny off of him to look him in the eye.

“Johnny mate, you and your mum aren’t leaving again are you?” He doesn’t think he could bare to lose Johnny again. Not when he’s only just got him back. Moses is by his side in seconds having heard what his big brother had said.

“Johnny can’t go!” he cries, holding onto his brother tight. “We won’t let them take you Johnny, will we Noah?”

Johnny’s eyes fill with tears and his face contorts in confusion as he looks to his mum for some sort of reassurance. Ryan and Sarah look equally panicked as they all jump to the conclusion that this has been the reason for the family meeting. 

The commotion draws the attention of his mum and Vanessa who quickly work out what is happening and rush over.

“No one is taking Johnny anywhere,” his mum assures them.

“Yeah, we’re not leaving guys, I promise,” Vanessa mumbles from behind his mum. Noah feels anger bubble up inside of him at that word, ‘promise’. It was such an easy word to say but almost impossible to mean. Vanessa had made him plenty of promises before. Promised that she’d always be there for his mum and him. Promised she’d never hurt them. Promised she’d never leave. All of her promises had been lies before so why should he trust her now?

“As if your promises mean anything,” he snipes and watches Vanessa recoil as if he’d just slapped her. His mum opens her mouth to yell at him, but thinks better of it and tries to calm the situation down instead.

“Listen everyone, Johnny and Vanessa aren’t going anywhere. That’s not why we wanted to talk to you all, I swear.” Her voice is firm and Noah finds himself calmed by the certainty in her words. Pulling Johnny up onto his knee, he holds onto him tight. After losing Joe, Johnny leaving had nearly finished him off. They might not be blood related, but he was as much his brother as Moses and Ryan and Noah wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was kind of his favourite. It helped that Johnny idolised the ground he walked on.

He watches his mum and Vanessa sceptically as they take a seat and look around at the confused faces of his family. 

“We wanted you all to hear this from us,” his mum begins, looking anxiously at Vanessa whose nervous smile spurs her on. “You’ll actually be seeing a lot more of Johnny from now on, and Vanessa…” 

His mum reaches across the little space between them then and slides her hand into Vanessa’s, squeezing gently. They look at each other like they used to, before everything had started to go wrong and Noah feels like the rug has been pulled from beneath his feet. 

“...because we’re back together.” 

Johnny and Moses are the first to react, running over to hug them both, squealing excitedly about being ‘proper brothers’ again. His mum kisses Vanessa on the cheek as they both gush over the little one’s reactions. Only Jack hangs back, not really having known Vanessa much and not really understanding what all the commotion is for. 

He wishes that he could be as happy as his little brothers, but all he can think about is the fact that he’s been here before. He’d been only a few years older than Moses and Johnny when his mum and Jai and broken up and got back together. His mum had tried to forgive Jai for his sake, but in the end, it had just made her hate him even more, enough to frame Rachel and make her run away with Jai’s son. How long would it be before his mum’s thirst for revenge meant he would be saying goodbye to Johnny again?

He watches as the rest of his family process the news. None are as happy about the announcement as the little ones, but reluctantly they seem to accept what his mum is saying.

“And how do we know that you won’t leave again?” he finally snaps, interrupting the conversation going on around him that had been little more than white noise to him. 

Vanessa tries to explain about the PTSD then and how she’s spent all of her time away trying to get better. He knows that he’s supposed to feel sympathy for her and he thinks that somewhere, deep down, he does. But he can’t help thinking that they are just words and empty promises. Standing up, he looks around at his older siblings and Sarah.

“If you lot want to believe this rubbish then fine, but I’m not about to start playing happy families again.” 

He takes the stairs two at a time and slams his bedroom door behind him for the first time in months. He hates that he feels like a child again. He’s almost 18 and he shouldn’t even care whether his mum and Vanessa are together or not – it’s her life and soon, he’ll be moving to go to university. But Vanessa hadn’t just left his mum and it wasn’t just mum who had to forgive her. 

It takes his mum twenty minutes to follow him. She doesn’t wait for an answer after knocking gently and she heads straight for his bed where she sits down with a deep sigh. He rolls over onto his side and faces the wall, not trusting himself to look at her. 

“I’m so sorry Noah,” she says, her voice strained and rough. He turns to look at her then – he had expected a lecture of some sort, but not an apology. “I’ve been a mess this year, and you’ve kept our little family together. It’s been hard for you and I want you to know that I don’t expect you to forgive Ness.”

Confused, Noah shuffles himself into a sitting position.

“Really?” he asks quietly.

“Really. But you do have to be civil and you do have to respect my decision. I know I haven’t given you many reasons to trust my judgement over the years, but I know I’m right about this.”

He considers her words for a moment, quietly appreciating the fact that she wasn’t pushing him to forgive Vanessa. He was almost 18 after all, and more than capable of deciding who he did and didn’t want in his life. 

“Will she be moving back in?” he asks. 

“It’s too soon to think about that,” she insists, “and not if Debbie is sticking around long term, there wouldn’t be enough room for us all. We just wanted to tell you all so that we weren’t hiding anything from you.”

“I think you’re mad,” he mumbles, but he already knows that it’s pointless to try and convince her. “But I won’t be difficult.”

She leans in and kisses him on his forehead and he wrinkles in nose in disgust out of habit. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, ruffling his hair as she stands up. He waits for her to close the door behind her before he flops back down onto his bed and presses his palms into his eyes. Vanessa’s words and promises meant nothing to him, but to have Johnny back in their lives and to see his mum smile again, putting up with her was a small price to pay.


	7. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to come back to this story. I have a bad habit of starting things and then getting bored and starting something else before I've finished. Only one more chapter after this one I think, so hopefully I'll finish this one soon. Thank you for all the comments and kudos. x

_Dig me out, can't leave this love for dead_  
_Hand to mouth we're picking up the thread_  
_I've got you belly-deep in me._  
_Just a little breath on the water now is all we need_  
_Just a little strength in our hearts,_  
_Enough to heal,_  
_-Heather Nova, 'Heal'_

Word travels fast around the village and in true Emmerdale fashion, everyone has an opinion on their reunion. For the most part, friends and neighbours are happy for them. The Dingles regard her warily, but gradually accept her back into the fold once they see how much happier Charity is. Noah still finds excuses to leave the house when she visits though, and Tracy isn’t exactly over the moon either, refusing to believe that Vanessa meant to stick around and insisting that she was no better than dad had been through her entire childhood.

  
Vanessa wishes more than anything that she could somehow erase the last year and undo the pain she had caused. Although Charity’s forgiveness was helping her to mend things, the life she had torn apart by leaving was scarred and forever altered. No matter how much she wanted things to go back to normal, her leaving had changed things, changed them all, irrevocably. 

  
From the outside looking in, Vanessa was sure that her reunion with Charity must have seemed easy, and in many ways it was. Loving Charity was as easy as breathing. But things were also different – they had both changed.

  
Logistically, it was almost impossible for them to spend as much time together as they wanted to. Sleep overs were only practical once or twice a week at best, so they found themselves snatching moments together whenever the opportunity presented itself, lunch breaks in the cellar and Vanessa creeping across to the pub just before closing time when Charity was working a late. The moments that they did find together were simultaneously familiar and new. 

  
\--------------------------

  
“Goodnight!” Charity yells firmly as she shoves a reluctant Jimmy towards the front doors of the pub. His eyes latch onto Vanessa where she’s perched on a bar stool, waiting patiently for Charity to get rid of the last few punters.

  
“This is all your fault, this is,” he grouches, scrunching up his nose and jabbing a finger in her general direction. “Just had to come back and make her happy again didn’t you, didn’t stop to think about us and our lock-ins did you…” Vanessa shrugs in mock apology as Charity continues pushing him towards the door.

  
“You’re lucky I haven’t barred you altogether Jimmy,” she grunts as she gives him a final shove out onto Main street. He’s mid-reply when she shuts the door on him and slams the bolts into place noisily. With hands on hips, she exhales loudly before turning her attention to Vanessa. 

  
With a smirk, she ambles over to the bar stool and nudges Vanessa’s knees apart with her hip, sliding herself between her legs. Instinctively, Vanessa’s hands find her hips and pull her closer as Charity’s hands wind into her hair before kissing her hungrily.

  
She’s been thinking about it all day. Kissing Vanessa. By the way Vanessa reacts, Charity reckons she’s been thinking about it too. 

  
“I thought he’d never leave,” Vanessa laughs as they pull apart for much needed air. Charity rests her forehead against Vanessa’s and smiles. “Have you really been having lock-ins while I’ve been gone?” she asks. 

Charity’s smile falters briefly as sadness flickers in her eyes at the memory. She pushes away from Vanessa then and starts to collect in the glasses. Reaching over the bar, Vanessa grabs the spray and cloth and follows her around the pub, wiping down the tables as Charity empties them. 

And briefly, it feels like they have stepped back in time, to the days when they had both been living at the pub. Vanessa would come through at closing time with every intention of helping Charity to clean up faster. More often than not, it hadn’t worked out that way though. They’d always get distracted by each other. 

“I drank a lot when you weren’t here and I had lock ins so I wouldn’t have to go home and be alone,” she admits with her back turned to Vanessa so she won’t see the tears that are streaming silently down her face. She didn’t want her to see the hurt in her eyes when once again, she realised just how broken Charity had been without her. She didn’t want her to feel any more guilty than she already did. But she also didn’t want to lie or pretend that Vanessa’s absence hadn’t shattered her into a million pieces.

After a pause, Vanessa’s arms circle her waist from behind and her forehead rests between Charity’s shoulder blades. Her fingertips find the hem of Charity’s shirt, and slide beneath it so she can press her palms against the warmth of Charity’s stomach. 

“Come home with me tonight,” Vanessa whispers. 

Sniffling, Charity scoffs, “Oh I’m not sure Rhona would be very happy if I did!”

The last time Charity had slept over at Smithy, breakfast the next morning had been more than a little awkward. Vanessa had casually asked Rhona if she’d slept well and Rhona had glared at them both with bags beneath her eyes. 

“I don’t care,” Vanessa murmurs, “I just need you with me.”

\---------------------------

Charity wakes up suddenly, sitting bolt upright in bed and clutches her chest as she feels her heart racing uncontrollably. It takes her a moment to remember where she is as the pale moonlight illuminates the unfamiliar angles of the room at Smithy. Still half asleep, she struggles to remember what had woken her. 

Then it happens again. Seemingly from no where, something solid hits her arm, sending a jolt of pain from her shoulder to her fingertips. It reminds her of when she and Chas had been kids and had taken it in turns to give each other a dead arm. 

Scrambling for the lamp, Charity turns back to find Vanessa drenched in sweat and thrashing around in a cocoon of bed sheets that she’d managed to tangle herself up in. Her eyes are closed, so it’s clearly a dream, but Vanessa’s arms had apparently not gotten the memo. She hits out again, this time narrowly missing Charity as she leans out of the way.

As she lines up another punch, Charity grabs at her wrist and holds it steady as Vanessa fights to free herself.

“Ness, babe, wake up,” she pleads, as loudly as she dares, not wanting to wake up the entire house. Vanessa doesn’t seem to hear her though as she keeps trying to free her arm from Charity’s grip, whimpering for her to let go. 

“I hate you!” she cries, as her body twists and turns, only making the bed sheet tighter around her and making her panic more. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes dart furiously in all directions.

“Ness!” she yells a little louder, shaking her gently, “Babe, wake up, you’re scaring me!”

Eventually, she wakes, though her eyes are wide and fearful when she does. She looks straight at Charity but it takes her a few minutes to recognise Charity’s face. When she does, her face crumples and she flings herself at Charity, wrapping her arms around her neck and clinging to her desperately as she sobs uncontrollably into the curve of Charity’s neck. 

Not knowing what else to do, Charity simply wraps her arms around her and holds her tightly until the crying slows.

“You’re okay, you’re safe,” Charity soothes, rocking her back and forth gently like she’s done dozens of time with Noah and Moses after a bad dream. 

It takes half an hour for Vanessa to calm down enough to let Charity peel her out of the bed sheets and pull a clean t-shirt over her head. Stripping the sheets from the bed, she pulls spare sheets out of the wardrobe and sets about making the bed up again while Vanessa sits on the windowsill shivering. 

“Thank you,” she mumbles, hugging herself to try and calm the tremor of her limbs. “They haven’t been that bad for a while, I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Charity is pretty certain that she’ll have a decent bruise in the morning, and if she’s being honest, her shoulder still aches as she tucks the bed sheet beneath the mattress, but she shrugs and shakes her head.

“With those tiny arms? You’re not as tough as you think you are, you know,” she laughs, in a vain attempt at lightening the mood. Vanessa scoffs and smiles weakly, watching Charity smooth out the sheets on the bed. When she’s happy with it, she crawls back onto the bed and motions for Vanessa to join her.

Vanessa crawls onto the bed sheepishly, shuffling closer to Charity until she can tuck herself completely into the curves of her body. For a few minutes they simply lie there in silence, the reality of what had just happened lingering around them, waiting to be addressed.

“Do you want to talk about the dream?” Charity finally asks, and instantly she feels Vanessa’s body tense up against her. It only lasts for a few seconds, but its enough to remind Charity of how Vanessa had been before she’d left – shutting down every attempt Charity had made to get her to open up about what was going on. This wasn’t the first nightmare Charity had woken Vanessa up from, but it had been the worst. “Please don’t shut me out,” she whispers.

Vanessa peers up at her then. Shakily, she brings her free hand to cup Charity’s cheek, fingertips grazing her jawline with her fingers before brushing a thumb over Charity’s bottom lip. Leaning in, she kisses her softly before she speaks. 

“Some parts of the dream are always the same,” she begins, her voice anxious and quiet. “I’m always trapped somewhere with Pierce and I’m always trying to find Johnny before he does.” Charity holds her a little tighter. “This time though, you were there. I could hear you outside the house trying to get in and save us but you couldn’t find a way inside…” 

Her words seem to dissolve into tears then as the memory of the dream proves too much for Vanessa to bare. 

“Shh, it’s okay Ness, you’re safe now,” she murmurs, holding her a little tighter and a little closer. But as she rubs Vanessa’s back soothingly, Charity can’t help but think about how the dream could easily have been her own. She had wanted to be the one to rescue Vanessa that night, but she hadn’t been able to get in. She’d wanted to be the person that Vanessa needed by her side through the cancer, but Vanessa had pushed her away and she’d wanted to be the one Vanessa turned to when things were tough, but the Mulberry in Vanessa’s mind had shut her out.

Prisons, Charity mused, weren’t always built of stone and metal bars. 

\-----------------------------

Rhona is surprised when Charity appears in the kitchen the next morning. 

“Mummy Charity!” Johnny yells, almost knocking his cereal over in his excitement. Rhona manages to catch it and set it straight before it spills. 

“Hey Johnnybobs,” Charity grins, picking him up out of his chair before sitting down with him on her knee. “You’re getting way too heavy mate,” she groans, only half joking. He laughs and carries on shovelling his breakfast into his mouth. 

“Where’s Ness?” Rhona asks around a mouthful of toast. 

Charity had left her sleeping, not wanting to wake her after it had taken her a good two hours to be able to get back to sleep after the nightmare.

“She had a bad dream last night, figured she could use a lie-in,” Charity shrugs. 

Rhona nods sympathetically but doesn’t push for details in front of Johnny.

“At least you were there this time Mummy Charity, to make the bad dream go away,” he mumbles, milk dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he speaks. “Can Mummy Charity come and live here with us Auntie Rhona?” he asks, “So that mummy’s bad dreams don’t make her sad any more.” Rhona looks absolutely terrified at the prospect and Charity considers staying quiet just to watch her try and come up with a diplomatic response, but after a few seconds of umming and ahhing, she takes pity on the little farmer.

“I think it would be better if me and Mummy had a house of our own again don’t you think? So we’d have room for Know-it-all-Noah and Mithering-Moses too?” 

Johnny nods excitedly, “And smelly Sarah too?” he asks.

Deciding that first thing in the morning is far too early to be explaining how Sarah would live with Debbie, she simply nods and kisses his head. Rhona looks so relieved that Charity can’t help but chuckle. 

Once the boys have cleaned their bowls and disappeared into the living room to watch cartoons, Rhona turns her full attention to Charity.

“Was it a bad one?” she asks knowingly with a look of sympathy that tells Charity she’s no stranger to the nightmares either. 

“Pretty bad, yeah. Took about 2 hours for her to get back to sleep,” she sighs, remembering the way that Vanessa had clung to her until she’d exhausted herself. 

“That’s good,” Rhona insists. “She doesn’t normally go back to sleep at all so it must have helped, having you there.” 

Charity’s eyes widen hopefully at Rhona’s suggestion that she wasn’t useless after all. She had spent the whole night since the nightmare chastising herself for not being able to comfort Vanessa more. It hadn’t occurred to her that it had been the first nightmare Vanessa had woken up from and not been completely alone.

She wakes her up an hour later with a cup of tea.

“Time is it?” Vanessa asks fretfully, searching for her phone.

“Don’t worry, Rhona’s on school duty and it’s your day off, so just chill for a bit, yeah?” 

Vanessa smiles wearily and settles back against the headboard, accepting the mug of tea gratefully. Charity sits cross-legged at the bottom of the bed sipping her own brew and watching Vanessa curiously as her forehead creases in concentration.

“Don’t think too hard babe, you might burst a blood vessel,” she jokes and Vanessa’s nose wrinkles as she smirks. After a moment, she looks sheepishly at Charity.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she mumbles. “They don’t happen as often as they used to.” Her tone is apologetic, and Charity’s chest aches.

“You don’t need to be sorry. You know I did tell you once that I was happy being your punchbag… didn’t think you’d take it quite so literally though.” she jokes, but the smile that Vanessa gives her in return is weak and doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“You know, if it’s too much…” Vanessa begins, pausing to take a breath when her voice trembles. “I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want to deal with it…” she finishes, staring into her tea as if she’s trying to predict the future. She can’t seem to look at Charity at all.

Placing both of their cups on the bedside table, Charity crawls back beneath the covers, her body flush against Vanessa’s as she pulls her into her arms. 

“I only wish I’d been there for every nightmare Ness,” she whispers.

\-----------------------

“I can’t believe I’m letting you make me watch this,” Charity groans, as she collapses onto the sofa. “You know this is the last Thursday before Christmas holidays. We should be making the most of it.” She slides her arms around Vanessa’s waist then, pulling her into her lap and laughing as she lets out a surprised little squeak. 

“Charity!” she exclaims, slapping her hands gently but making no real effort to escape. Eventually she stops pretending to struggle and simply wriggles herself into a comfortable position before hitting play on the remote. 

After ten minutes, they have manoeuvred themselves into a more comfortable position, with Vanessa lying between Charity’s legs on her side, her head resting on Charity’s chest. Intuitively, she swirls her fingertips in circles on the inside of Charity’s wrist – smiling when the other woman releases a contented sigh. She might have created caverns between them, but it was these little intimate moments that were stitching them back together.

They’re barely half way through the film when the front door opens and shuts again with a bang. Peering over the back of the couch, Vanessa scrambles into a sitting position when she realises it’s Noah. He stands for a moment, in the middle of the room just staring at her. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something, but eventually he simply sneers and heads for the stairs. 

“He’ll come round babe,” Charity murmurs as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. “Remember what he was like when we first got together?” She chuckles softly to herself at the memory of it. 

“I guess,” Vanessa mumbles. “I don’t expect him to trust me. I just wish he’d talk to me.” 

As the screechy vocals of the Wolf Skulls begin above them, Vanessa lets herself be pulled back into Charity’s arms, folded into the warmth and softness of her. Winning Noah round the first time had taken months and that was before she’d done anything to hurt them. Next year he’d be heading off to university, beginning his own life, and time no longer felt like a luxury that she had. 

“We could always go on another of your famous picnics,” Charity suggests, finding Vanessa’s hand with her own and squeezing gently. 

“In December?”Vanessa laughs.

“Okay then, how about Christmas dinner? Even our Noah cheers up when there’s food and presents.”

\---------------------

Charity ends up inviting Tracy and Nate over for Christmas dinner too. The more people there are, she thinks, the less likely it is that Noah will kick off. 

On Christmas Eve she enlists Noah and Nate to bring over the tables and chairs from the pub while she and Debbie rearrange the living room furniture to make room. Five adults, two teenagers, three children and a baby. Noah watches her from the armchair as she spreads out the table cloths, adds the decorations and sets out the place mats. When she’s happy that everything is perfect, she steps back to admire her handy work.

“What do you think?” she asks him. She’s got her Christmas playlist blasting from her phone on the counter, but even Wham and Wizzard aren’t enough to make her middle son crack a smile. Sulking, he glances briefly at the table and shrugs.

“S’alright I suppose.” he grumbles, turning back to his phone. “Anything’s an improvement on last year though.” He mutters the last bit under his breath but she still hears him. The words sting but she can’t bring herself to be annoyed with him, because it’s true. Last Christmas had been a disaster. She’d palmed Moses off on Ross for nearly a month, Debbie had still been in Scotland and Noah had ended up going to Wishing Well for the whole day. She had spent the entire day in bed, getting up only to use the bathroom and get more gin. She hadn’t decorated, hadn’t bought presents and had barely even acknowledged that it was Christmas at all. 

If she’s honest with herself, that’s why she’s going to so much trouble this year. She knows she has a lot of making up to do. It’s why her wardrobe is full to the brim with Christmas presents and why for the first time in her life, she isn’t rushing out on Christmas Eve to buy emergency presents. She’d even bought Vanessa and Johnny’s presents a few weeks back. 

“I’m trying my best Noah,” she sighs, moving one placement a quarter inch to the left. He blushes then and looks up sheepishly. Clearly, he thought she hadn’t heard him.

“I know mum, I’m sorry. I just wish we didn’t have to have dinner with the person who ruined last Christmas.”

Charity looks at her son then. He’s almost 18 now but sometimes, especially when he’s upset, all she can see is her little boy. A child who has been let down more times than she can count – usually by herself.

“I know you’re angry at Vanessa babe,” she murmurs, “but I could have handled her leaving better too. I think I deserve at least a little bit of the blame for that. And she really is sorry. She misses you.”

Noah lets out a noise that is half way between a snort and laugh. 

\-----------------------

When Vanessa arrives at noon with a very excited Johnny in tow, Jacob’s Fold is an ocean of wrapping paper and cardboard boxes. Somewhere amidst the chaos, Moses and Jack are playing with their new action figures and immediately call Johnny over to join in. Noah is in the armchair, playing a game on his new laptop and he’s so engrossed that he doesn’t even register that people have started arriving until Johnny stands in front of him, waving his hands in his face. A flicker of irritation flashes across his features when he loses his game, but he takes a deep breath and remembers that it’s Christmas. Johnny opens his arms and legs wide so that Noah can fully appreciate his new football kit that he’d insisted on wearing. 

“Look at the back!” he exclaims, turning around when Noah looks suitably impressed with the front of the kit. On the back, Vanessa has had ‘Johnny’ printed and the number 6. 

“That is really cool little bro,” Noah grins, holding out his fist for Johnny to bump. The interaction is bittersweet, reminding Vanessa that she hadn’t only torn apart her own life but her son’s too, biological and otherwise. Noah glances up briefly then to where she’s standing awkwardly by the door with her coat still on. His face is expressionless but he gives her a tiny nod before returning his attention to his game. It feels like a victory.  
Debbie smiles over from the kitchen area where she’s chopping the vegetables. “Don’t suppose you feel like giving us a hand Vanessa? Mum’s been about as much use as a chocolate teapot.”

Charity’s hand flies to her chest as she gasps in mock offence at Debbie’s insult, but they all know that it’s true. Charity has many talents, but cooking is not one of them. She can just about manage to cook frozen chips and pizza without burning them. Leaning in, Vanessa places a chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth before hanging up her coat and taking over from Debbie at the chopping board. 

Tracy and Nate arrive half an hour later with Violet. While Sarah and Debbie fuss over the baby and Nate is equally besotted with Noah’s new games, Tracy joins Vanessa and Charity in the kitchen and gratefully accepts a glass of wine. 

“It smells good,” she groans, nodding towards the oven where the turkey is almost done. “And thanks for the invite. I am far too sleep deprived to be trusted to cook.” As Vanessa looks more closely at her sister, she notices the bags beneath her eyes that she’s attempted to hide beneath concealer. She remembers those bags well. Johnny hadn’t slept through the night in his own bed until he was 2 and though she loved the bones of him, it had put her off the idea of having any more kids once and for all. 

As dinner is served up and everyone finds their place around the table, Charity makes sure they’re sat next to each other. As soon as they’re seated, she slides her hand into Vanessa’s beneath the table and squeezes it reassuringly, almost as if she can sense the anxiety that is beginning to flutter in Vanessa’s stomach. Vanessa squeezes back gratefully and rests her head on Charity’s shoulder for a beat. There are about three different conversations going on around her, none of which she feels a part of, but the closeness of Charity means that Vanessa doesn’t mind all that much. 

Once everyone has stuffed themselves silly with extra helpings of roast potatos and pigs in blankets, Tracy stands with a wobble and taps her wine glass with her fork. She’s only had two drinks but she’s already tipsy. Vanessa wonders if this is the first time she’s drunk since before she was pregnant. Nate steadies her with a hand to her hip and she thanks him loudly before turning her attention back to the rest of the expectant faces around the table.

“I just wanted to say thank you Debbie and Charity for having us round. It’s been a tough year for a lot of us…” Tracy’s eyes land briefly on Vanessa and the weight of the implication is almost unbearable. Charity’s hand finds her thigh then and her touch is warm and firm. “...but everything is finally starting to fall into place now,” Tracy continues. “We have Violet now, and we have Johnny and Vanessa back, so we should definitely be celebrating this year. And on that note, Nate and I have some news…”

“You’re not pregnant again are you?” Noah scoffs, and everyone else’s attention snaps to Tracy and Nate. Nate almost chokes on his pigs in blankets then as something that can only be described as abject horror washes over his face. 

“No silly!” Tracy laughs as Nate holds a hand to his heart and takes a deep breath. “We’ve finally finished the renovations up at Wiley’s so we’re going to be moving up there in January.”

Everyone smiles politely, but after the expectation of another pregnancy announcement, Tracy’s actual news is a bit of an anti-climax. She pouts comically at the lack of excitement from everyone.

“Does that mean we can come and play with the animals more?” Moses asks and Nate ruffles his hair affectionately.

“Course it does big man. I will definitely be needing some apprentices,” he assures him and Moses offers him a toothy grin in response. Charity had mentioned his current obsession with farms and animals and how he’s decided he’s going to be a farmer when he’s older, but seeing his enthusiasm for it all first hand fills Vanessa with a warm feeling. She had missed Moses’ boundless energy and inquisitiveness and hoped she’d never need to miss it again.

“Anyway,” Tracy yells, clawing back the attention she had temporarily lost to Moses. “We also have a present for you guys,” she slurred, pointing in Charity and Vanessa’s general direction with a squint. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a jiffy envelope. “Forgive the lack of wrapping – we only decided this morning.”  
Charity takes the envelope cautiously and hands it to Vanessa to open. Anxiously, she rips the top of the envelope open and peers inside. Confused by what she finds, she turns the envelope upside down and slides the contents onto the table – a single key.

“It’s the key to Tug Ghyll,” Tracy clarifies. “We thought, since you’re definitely sticking around, you should probably have a place of your own… either for you and Johnny or for, you know, whoever…” 

Tracy’s trying to be vague but her meaning couldn’t be more obvious as she looks blatantly between Vanessa and Charity. Vanessa looks cautiously at Charity and sees the same mixture of excitement and fear in her eyes as she feels in the pit of her own stomach. Before she can reassure Charity that there’s no rush and no expectations, a chair at the opposite end of the table topples over as Noah stands up suddenly.

Vanessa can’t quite place the expression on his face, but it’s probably somewhere between anger and disappointment. 

“You two can do what you want,” he seethes. “but I’m not moving anywhere with either of you. If you want to play happy families and pretend that the last year didn’t happen then good for you, but I still remember what it was like last Christmas and I’m not just going to sit around and wait for her to do it again!”

Debbie tries to shush him as she picks up the chair and tries to coax him back into it, but his anger has made him strong and he shoves his sister away. Before anyone else can open their mouths to speak, he grabs his coat and storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him. 

Silence falls over the table then and Vanessa can feel everyone’s eyes on her. Tracy hiccups and frowns before sitting down with a thud. That clearly hadn’t been the response she’d been hoping for.

“Thank you Tracy,” Charity says eventually, sliding an arm round Vanessa’s waist and tugging her closer. 

“Who wants ice cream?” Debbie yells cheerfully. Almost too cheerfully. But it does the trick. A chorus of “Yes please!” from the kids and Nate successfully shifts the focus from Vanessa.

“I should probably go and find him,” Charity whispers, pushing her chair back so she can get up. Shaking her head, Vanessa places a hand firmly on Charity’s shoulder and stands up instead.

“Is it okay if I try first?” she asks. 

\--------------------------------

She finds him sitting on the gazebo, hands stuffed into his pockets and leaning into his knees. It’s below freezing and Vanessa shivers as she approaches him, wishing she’d thought to put on her thicker coat that morning.

“Can I sit down?” she asks, pointing at the space on the bench beside him. He scowls but doesn’t speak, eventually shrugging and shifting his feet off the seat and back onto the ground. 

Vanessa sits down cautiously and looks around. The last time she’d stood here was with Charity on what should have been their wedding day. The last happy day she can remember before her entire world had started to crumble around her. 

“Do you remember when your mum dragged me out here on our wedding day?” she asks quietly. She doesn’t look at him but rather focuses her attention on the village hall. Noah reminds her of the hundreds of feral cats she’s treated over the years. When they’re scared and angry, the last thing you want to do is make eye contact.

For a moment, she thinks he’s going to completely ignore her but eventually, he grunts his acknowledgement and Vanessa takes it as permission to continue.  
“Well, she stood here with me and thanked for me everything I’d done to support her… with you being in hospital over Christmas, with Lisa dying and helping her look after Sarah… for being her rock basically.”

Noah scoffs and she doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s rolling his eyes. 

“I know,” she whispers, “The worst thing is that I then told her that I’d always be here for her.”

She can feel his eyes burning into the side of her head. 

“I didn’t mean to lie to her, or to let any of you down, Noah. I was so scared of the things in my head that I really thought you were all going to be better off without me.”

She hears him deflate then and dares to glance at him. The anger and resentment seem to have evaporated as he slumps forward with his head in his hands. She wants to say more, to find a dozen ways to apologise, but she bites her tongue and waits for him to speak.

“You saved her. Everyone else who said they loved her ended up hurting her. I thought you were different.” His words are muffled by his hands and sound heavy, as though he’s had to heave them out of his mouth, as if he’s tired of trying to make sense of it all. “And I know you didn’t mean to hurt her – and that makes you different, but this last year has been hell.”

She nods, watching as he pulls his hands away and looks at her briefly with so much sadness in his eyes.

“I can’t take it back Noah. I wish I could,” she whispers, “I’m human and I make mistakes. I wish I could promise you that I won’t ever make a mistake again, but I can’t. All I can promise you is that I love your mum and all of you kids more than life itself and if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for the hurt I caused.”

He considers her words carefully as he searches her face suspiciously, looking for some sign that she’s lying. After a beat, he nods slowly and takes a deep breath. Standing up, he looks down at his shoes, scuffing the frost from the gazebo floor. 

“I hope you mean that,” he mumbles. It’s hardly a glowing endorsement, but from Noah, it feels like forgiveness. He nods towards the house, taking a few steps back but waiting for her to follow him. She wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hug him, but she knows that he’s more like his mother than he’ll ever admit so she resigns herself to waiting. 

Eventually, in his own time, he’ll come to her.


	8. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I may have got just a little carried away with this chapter... if you are lactose intolerant, you might want to step away slowly because there is a rather large amount of cheese here. I hope the first part of the chapter helps to make up for it!

_Ain’t it crazy,_   
_For a moment there, I just gave up trying_   
_But now I see, you can let the light in_   
_You can begin again now_   
_Ain’t it crazy_   
_I lay me down in this sweet perfection_   
_I am a witness to my ressurection_   
_Heal me, Lift me, Take me to the waterside_   
_Drop me in, let me swim, let everyone know I’ll be coming home again_   
_– Melissa Etheridge, ‘Heal Me’_

Charity never officially moves in to Tug Ghyll with Vanessa; it happens gradually. One overnight bag at a time, Charity’s clothes fill up the spaces in her wardrobe until one day she simply stops going back to Debbie’s. Noah doesn’t come with her, though they decorate a room for him anyway and he sleeps in it occasionally. 

They rarely acknowledge it. This creeping back towards some sort of normality. It’s just something that happens while life carries on around them. 

Bit by bit and one room at a time, Vanessa puts the house back in order and it starts to feel like therapy of a sort – putting herself back into Tug Ghyll feels almost like she’s reclaiming the life that Pierce and the cancer had taken away from her.

“Does it really have to be yellow babe?” Charity moans, holding up the giant tin of Dulux paint that Vanessa has brought home. Lemon Punch, it says on the front. 

She’s already emptied the walls of pictures and photographs and thrown dust sheets over the furniture. She’s even dressed for the occasion with a vest top beneath an old pair of dungarees and a bandanna to cover her hair. Charity has tried almost everything to get out of helping but Vanessa has finally got her into an old shirt and a pair of threadbare leggings. The outfit of course is purely practical and definitely wasn’t chosen because the leggings are practically see through. 

The boys are up at Wiley’s with Nate and Tracy for the day and Vanessa has agreed with Chas that any sudden desire to become employee of the month and volunteering to work will be ignored. 

“Yes it has to be yellow – you got to choose the paint for the bedroom so I get to choose the paint for the living room. It’s only fair.”

Vanessa connects her phone to the bluetooth speaker and finds a playlist that she’s put together for exactly this occasion. It’s the cheesiest 90s pop music she could find – the kind you can’t help but smile and dance to, even though you know deep down that it’s not even real music. Charity groans even louder when Steps blares out of the speaker, but she picks up the paint roller anyway and gets stuck in.

As expected, Charity has the attention span of a goldfish and after about fifteen minutes of painting, a splatter of paint hits the side of Vanessa’s face. With a high pitched squeal she runs to the kitchen sink to wash off the paint whilst Charity hugs her ribs and breaks down into a fit of giggles.

“Aw, don’t wash it off babe, it suits you!” Charity snickers when Vanessa turns to glare at her with a huff.

“Not as much as you suited red,” Vanessa retorts, sticking out her tongue and trying not to laugh as memories of Charity being covered in red paint flash before her mind. Charity scowls at her then, clearly not remembering the incident as fondly as Vanessa. 

As she sponges away the yellow from her cheek, Charity sneaks up behind her and hands on hips, takes advantage of Vanessa’s hair being tied up for once. 

“Sorry babe,” she murmurs as she places feather light kisses along the column of Vanessa’s exposed neck until she reaches her earlobe and captures it gently between her teeth. Vanessa groans as her heart quickens and a shiver runs along the length of her spine. Charity’s attempts to distract her are completely transparent but frustratingly impossible to resist.

Turning in her arms, Vanessa slides her arms around Charity’s neck and lets her fingers sink into her hair. In the middle of the kiss that follows, Charity’s hand drop to her thighs and Vanessa finds herself being lifted up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly. 

Charity fumbles with the buttons on her dungarees as her tongue slides deliciously against Vanessa’s own, swallowing the smaller woman’s moans hungrily. In no time at all, her hands are pushing beneath her vest top and cupping her breasts firmly. As her thumbs graze her nipples, Vanessa bucks her hips with urgency, a delicioius ache building at her core and demanding pressure.

The utensils that litter the counter are pushed aside as Vanessa tries to find purchase with her hands. Charity pops the buttons at the side of her dungarees easily, pulling them roughly down her legs until she can gain access to her underwear.

“Fuck,” she groans as her fingers slide beneath the thin cotton and into a pool of heat. Dropping her head to Vanessa’s chest, she places hot open mouthed kisses along her collarbone as her fingers slip through her folds and deep inside. “God, you feel so good babe,” she husks. 

Vanessa chases Charity’s hand with her hips, urging her to push deeper and harder. It never fails to amaze her how quickly Charity can work her into a frenzy, can make her weak with the softest of looks or the gentlest of touches. Vanessa whimpers as Charity teases her clit with her thumb, grinding her hips in desperation until Charity finally gives in to her.

By the time Tracy arrives back with the boys, they’ve barely finished painting one wall.

\-----------------------------

With both boys in bed and Charity working a late, Vanessa settles on the sofa beneath her favourite yellow blanket and picks up the book she’s been meaning to read for weeks. She’s only a few pages in when the front door opens and Noah walks in. 

“Hey,” he smiles, hovering by the door and looking around the freshly decorated living room. “Wow, is it yellow enough?” he laughs. 

She watches him make his way around the room, smiling at the dozens of photographs that fill every surface. He features in a few of them, both as a young boy with his mum and more recent ones of him with Moses, Johnny and Ryan. He pauses at the mantelpiece, picking up the one picture they had of all four boys with both her and Charity at one of her ‘famous picnics’. He smiles fondly at the memories before putting it carefully back and turning to face her.

“Mum at work?” he asks nonchalantly and she nods, smiling when he doesn’t make an excuse to leave but plonks himself down in the patchwork armchair that is back in it’s rightful place. They have built some bridges over the last month but this was the first time he had visited when his mum wasn’t home.

They make small talk. She asks about which universities he’s applied for and asks how his revision is going but it soon becomes clear that he has something more pressing on his mind.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, putting her book down on the coffee table and sitting up straighter. With a nervous grin, he stands up and walks back to the fireplace, looking again at the photograph. 

“Debbie was clearing out mum’s old room,” he mutters as he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for something. “She found this,” he explains, turning to her and uncurling his fist to reveal the engagement ring that Charity had given her three years ago. 

Her heart thumps wildly at the sight of it. For almost two years, she had hardly ever taken it off her finger but after she’d left it with Charity when she’d walked out on them, she hadn’t expected to ever see it again. She certainly hadn’t expected Charity to keep it. Taking it between forefinger and thumb, she allows herself to remember the night that Charity had first slid it onto her finger and how she had never been happier than the moment when Charity Dingle had told her she wanted to love her forever. 

When tears start to gather in her eyes, and a cloying lump fills her throat, Noah clears his throat awkwardly.

“Don’t get all soppy please,” he scoffs, “Debbie wanted to give it to mum, but I think you should have it.” With his hands stuffed into his pockets, he trains his eyes on the wall behind her so he doesn’t have to watch her attempt to reign in her tears. Sniffling, she takes a few small breaths and closes her own fist tightly around the ring. The sharp edges of the diamond press into her palm. 

“Why me?” she asks. 

Noah shrugs, “I just think that if anyone is going to make a forever kind of promise, this time it should be you.” 

\---------------------------

She hides the ring at first, unsure of what to do with it. When Charity isn’t home she puts it on, surprised that after over a year, it still fits perfectly, still feels like it belongs on her finger. She sits and stares at it, wondering how different things might have been if they’d gotten married when they were supposed to. 

They wouldn’t have fallen out for a start, and Charity wouldn’t have believed she’d gone to Paris when Pierce took her. She’d have looked for her. Maybe found her. And perhaps the vows would have made a difference in how they’d faced the cancer together – perhaps there’d have been less arguments and a little more trust. 

But ‘what ifs’ are pointless. She hadn’t spent the last year learning to accept the harsh reality of her experiences just to start wishing them away again. 

\----------------------

“Babe, your alarm’s going off,” 

She wakes to Charity’s warm breath in the shell of her ear, her voice gravelly with sleep. The fog of sleep keeps her limbs and eyelids heavy until Charity’s nose nudges her ear and soft lips press against her jawline. Stretching slowly, she reaches blindly for her phone and holds it in front of her face so that she can turn off the alarm without opening her eyes too much. 

As quiet settles back around them, she rolls over mid stretch to face Charity. She’s lying on her front, sleepy eyes gazing warmly at her from behind a few strands of golden curls. 

“Morning,” Vanessa murmurs, pushing the loose tendrils back behind Charity’s ear before kissing her softly. Charity smiles into the kiss and shifts onto her side so she can reach out and pull Vanessa closer. With their bodies flush together, the next kiss is long and lazy as hands curl around hips and waist. 

Charity sighs contentedly, “I’ve decided we’re staying in bed today,” she murmurs as she pulls away slightly to nestle her head beneath Vanessa’s chin. Her voice vibrates against Vanessa’s collarbone, the words damp against her skin. Vanessa groans. Spending all day in bed with Charity sounds delicious. Running her fingers slowly through Charity’s hair and down to her back where she lazily connects the freckles on her shoulder blade as if she’s tracing a constellation.

“I wish we could,” she sighs, trying to savour every second of closeness before reality comes bounding across the landing in the shape of two boisterous six year olds.   
They lie in comfortable silence then, the only signs that Charity is awake is the occasional kiss she presses against Vanessa’s chest. Vanessa loves mornings like this almost as much as the mornings when Charity wakes her up with her fingers dancing across her inner thigh and kisses that are hotter, heavier, more persistent. 

“Good morning!”

The door to their bedroom swings open and hits the wall with a crack. Charity groans and tries to burrow her head even deeper into Vanessa as the unnaturally chipper voices of their sons shatter their perfect morning into noise and chaos. 

They run for the bed, vaulting themselves onto the mattress and jumping up and down a few times before they flop down on top of them. Vanessa gasps for breath as Moses sits on her stomach. He is big for his age, and strong. 

“What’s for breakfast Mum?” he asks eagerly, and she can’t help but laugh. Food is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up and the last thing he asks for before he goes to bed. Johnny, on the other hand, has the appetite of a bird and it’s a struggle to get him to finish a meal.

“Fruit, toast and yoghurt,” she decides, hoping she can fill him up with some healthier options rather than the sugar coated cereal that he loves so much. 

“Can I help you chop the apples and banana?” he asks, his eyes widening with excitement. 

When they finally make it downstairs, the daily routine begins as she fixes breakfast and lays out their school uniforms on the back of the sofa. When Charity finishes in the bathroom, they swap and Charity makes their packed lunches while Vanessa has a quick shower and gets herself dressed. Once she’s back downstairs, they’ll team up to coax the boys into getting their uniforms on and help them with their shoes. 

To an outsider, it must all look so dreadfully dull and repetitive, but Vanessa loves it. How smoothly it runs, and how she and Charity are like a well-oiled machine, perfectly synchronised and in tune with each other. 

As she watches Charity combing Johnny and Moses’ hair on the sofa, Vanessa thinks about the ring and all the ‘what ifs’ that seeing it again had conjured, and she realises with perfect clarity that absolutely none of it matters. She loves Charity. She wants to wake up with her every morning and fall asleep with her every night for the rest of her life.  
\-------------------------------

Valentines Day falls on a Monday, so apart from exchanging cards in bed, the daily routine of getting the boys ready for school doesn’t change much. Over breakfast, Charity reaches into the top shelf of one of the cupboards and pulls out a small gift. 

Vanessa grins, “You hid it up there because you knew I couldn’t reach that shelf didn’t you?”

Charity smirks, sitting back down at the table and watching intently as Vanessa carefully unwraps the present to reveal the little, black velvet box. Charity hears her breath hitch as she simply holds it in her hands. 

“It’s not an engagement ring,” she clarifies and tries not to read too much into the sigh of relief that follows. With a soft click, Vanessa releases the clasp of the box and opens it slowly to reveal a pair of diamond earrings – classic, understated and beautiful – just how Vanessa likes her jewellery. She gasps, bringing a hand to her lips and looking at Charity with wide, watery eyes. 

“Oh Charity! They’re beautiful!” she exclaims, immediately taking out the simple gold studs from her ears and replacing them with the diamonds. “I love them!” As soon as the new earrings are in, she stands and wraps her arms around Charity from behind, kissing her on the cheek a dozen times with great enthusiasm. Across the table, the boys giggle at the display.

“Ugghhh, kisses!” Charity jokes for the boys benefit, but her jaw aches from smiling. Making Vanessa happy is addictive. 

“Mum, have you got Mummy Charity a present?” Johnny asks then, and Charity feels Vanessa’s arm tense around her shoulders.

“I have, but I left it at the vets so you wouldn’t find it. I’ll bring it over to the pub at lunch if that’s okay?” Charity narrows her eyes and tilts her head to look up at Vanessa. She’s not the best at surprises, especially when she has to spend the whole morning waiting for it, but she figures a few more hours won’t hurt. With a soft smile, she curves a hand around Vanessa’s neck and pulls her in closer for a kiss.   
\----------------------------

The Woolpack is fairly busy for a Monday lunchtime so when Chas comes through to cover her break, Charity doesn’t need telling twice. In the pub’s back room, she collapses onto the sofa and takes out her phone. No messages from Vanessa. 

She had been trying to figure out what Vanessa’s mystery gift might be all afternoon. For all of Vanessa’s wonderful qualities, there were three things that Vanessa could not do to save her life. She couldn’t sing, she couldn’t make a decent cup of tea and she was pretty atrocious at picking out the perfect gift. To be fair, she had ended up loving that cashmere cardigan, but it was still the most Un-Charity piece of clothing that Vanessa could have picked. Nervously, she peers up at the clock and counts down the minutes until Vanessa’s lunch hour.

When the back door of the pub opens and closes, she’s surprised to see that it’s Rhona walking through instead of Vanessa. Immediately, her mind jumps to the worst possible conclusions.

“Where’s Ness? Is she okay?” she blurts out, scrambling to her feet. 

“She’s fine!” Rhona insists, holding out a white envelope to Charity. “She wanted me to give you this. Some sort of scavenger hunt I think she said. Anyway, follow the clues and you’ll get your gift,” she shrugs. Having clearly fulfilled her duties, Rhona cuts through the pub to the bar and leaves Charity standing in the middle of the living room turning the envelope over and over in her hands. 

She’s never done a scavenger hunt before. Bob and Wendy had organised one once, as a team building exercise for the staff, but she’d managed to swerve that. With a sigh, she opens the envelope and pulls out a handwritten note. 

_‘Follow the clues to find your gift. Don’t roll your eyes and please humour me! Chas isn’t expecting you back so don’t try and use work as an excuse… I’m waiting for you. Your first clue is in the place where it all began… and by ‘it’, I mean us. Xx’_

Groaning, Charity didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed by how accurately Vanessa had predicted what her reaction to this little game would be. As if on cue, Chas’ head appears round the door and when she sees Charity holding the letter, she laughs.

“I told her you’d hate it,” she smirks, “but I promised I’d make sure you did it, so get a move on. Your shifts covered.”

The clue is hardly cryptic, so as Charity resigns herself to completing this strange little game, she makes her way past Chas, into the cellar and straight to the chair where she’d first kissed Vanessa. She can’t help the smug smile that spreads across her face at the memory of it. The way that Vanessa had been completely stunned by the first kiss, but after just a few seconds, she had chased Charity’s lips. Charity had never been the kind of woman who kissed for the sake of kissing before, but she could happily kiss Vanessa for hours. 

She finds another envelope down the side of the cushion and sits down to open it. 

_‘Don’t look so smug. I may have been the one wearing a super hero costume but it was your secret super power of turning women gay that saved me from a life of boring hetero relationships. For your second clue, you’re going to need to go to the place where you gave me your hangover cure. ;)’_

The little winking face makes her chuckle. Already she is starting to enjoy Vanessa’s little game. With vivid memories of Vanessa writhing beneath her in ecstasy, Charity makes her way out of the cellar and up the stairs of the Woolpack until she reaches her old bedroom. 

The bed and furniture is the same, but everything else has changed since Faith had moved in and put her stamp on it. There isn’t much left of Charity in the room, but she still remembers with perfect clarity how she had led Vanessa upstairs and pressed her up against the door for the first time. How her body had seemed to come alive beneath Charity’s tongue and fingers, bending to her will. How, despite her nerves and lack of experience, Vanessa had touched her with more reverence than all of the men in her life put together. 

She finds the envelope beneath a pillow and opens it eagerly. 

_‘Our first night together cured more than just my hangover. I love the way you make me feel. For your third clue, you need to go to the place where you promised to rock my world.’_

As Charity makes her way back downstairs and through the pub, she tries not to look too enthusiastic in front of Chas. The last thing she needs is her mockery. Rolling her eyes, she holds up the scraps of paper with a shrug and Chas laughs. The minute the swinging doors close behind her however, she’s picking up the pace and practically power walking down the road towards Tug Ghyll, following the very same path she had taken the night she’d chased Vanessa home. The night that she’d admitted to caring about her quite a bit and promised to rock her world. 

She comes to a stop at the spot she remembers standing in that night, just a few feet away from Tug Ghyll, but this envelope turns out to be a little trickier to find. Eventually she checks the clue again, beginning to doubt that she’d read it properly. It’s only then that she notices that the word ‘rock’ is underlined. She checks the wall for loose rocks before she notices quite a large rock has been placed just a few feet away from the gate to Tug Ghyll. Rolling it over with her foot, she finds the next envelope hidden beneath.

_‘It’s been a rocky few years, but you have been my rock (see what I did there!?). Who’d have thought it would take you less than a year to be exactly the woman for a Mrs and Mrs White Wedding eh? For your fourth clue, go to the place where strings were attached.’_

Charity smiles and rolls her eyes at Vanessa’s terrible puns and considers adding ‘comedy’ to the list of things that Vanessa is terrible at. As she heads back towards the pub however, she has to admit, that this little game is turning out to be pretty fun. 

Chas looks up expectantly as Charity strolls back through the pub, pushing herself up from where she’d been leaning against the bar. 

Charity shakes her head, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not finished yet.” Chas groans and goes back to what Charity assumes is a particularly boring conversation with Cain. He looks at her strangely as she begins lifting up the bar stools around him and running her fingers beneath the bar itself. 

“What are you doin… hey!” Charity practically shoves him off his seat and he stumbles a little before regaining his balance. Charity can feel his scowl burning into the back of her head, but she doesn’t care. The next envelope is nowhere to be seen. With a groan of frustration, she throws her hands in the air in defeat. 

“Looking for this?” Cain asks, pulling a white envelope out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He moves it away quickly when she moves to grab it. 

“That’s mine!” she snaps, “Give it back Cain!” He scoffs, clearly amused, but eventually hands it over so that he can get back to his pint. She ignores Chas’ raised eyebrow as she tears open the envelope.

_‘Even when we were physically apart, there was always a string still attached that kept tugging me back to you. I think it’s unbreakable now. For your fifth clue, find the place where I knew I loved you for the first time.’_

It only takes a few seconds for the figurative light bulb above her head to blink into existence. Chas and Cain snort with laughter at her enthusiasm, but she’s past caring now, eager to complete the game. She rushes out of the pub and makes her way over to the vets. They had had this conversation many times because it was pretty obvious to them both that they had loved each other long before they finally got around to admitting it to each other. Charity can never pinpoint an exact time and place that she suddenly knew that she loved Vanessa. It had happened so gradually and thoroughly that by the time she knew she loved her, it had felt like she’d loved her forever. But Vanessa was always very certain that it was this day – the day that Charity stuck a fake moustache on her upper lip and declared she wasn’t going anywhere - that Vanessa had known she loved Charity.

She doesn’t stop to say hello to Belle on reception, or to explain to Jamie where she’s going. She heads straight for the office at the back of the building where all the animals are kept. She searches the floor on which they’d sat that night and the cupboards which they’d leant against. There’s no sign of an envelope.

It’s only when she stands up again in exasperation that she glances over at the animals in their cages and remembers Voldemort. Peering through the plastic and bars of all the different containers, she finally finds a green snake amidst all the rabbits, hamsters and guinea pigs. Relieved that there appears to be no envelope IN the container, she moves her hand slowly across the top of it until her fingers close around a familiar, smooth envelope. 

_‘No one makes me laugh the way that you do. For your sixth clue, go to where we stupidly and completely said we loved each other for the first time.’_

By this point, she’s pretty certain that the clues aren’t even meant to be difficult. It’s almost as if Vanessa just wants her to remember all these milestones in their relationship before she gives her the gift – but Charity doesn’t mind. For so long, she hadn’t let herself remember these moments – they had been far too painful. Now, she feels like she’s reclaiming them in some way, putting them back where they belong as she follows them all the way back to Vanessa. 

The next envelope ends up being in the fridge. 

_‘You weren’t the first person I loved, but you were the first person I loved completely, with everything I had. Your seventh clue is by a tree… no, a lake… no…. (oh and by the way, you’re getting close now – don’t give up)._

Charity doesn’t think she could give up even if she tried. Grabbing her car keys off the kitchen table, she sets off for Home Farm, smiling stupidly to herself as she remembers the disastrous proposal that had almost completely backfired and the moment when she’d realised it hadn’t. Vanessa saying that they were perfect for each other had perhaps been the understatement of the century, because Charity had never in her entire life felt like she belonged anywhere until she’d fallen in love with Vanessa. 

She finds the envelope stuck to the trunk of a tree just a few feet away from the driveway. 

_‘You found the final clue. I was going to write a dozen more, but I didn’t want to sleep on the sofa tonight. Now you can come and find me and your present. I’ll be waiting for you in the place where a gobby cow and an airhead stood in their wedding dresses.’_

As she drives back into the village, she finds she no longer cares if Vanessa’s gift is terrible or not because what this crazy little treasure hunt had given her had been priceless. Memories that not so long ago had caused her nothing but confusion and pain were now reminding her why she had been right to forgive Vanessa. Reminding her that no matter how many obstacles life threw at them, they were meant to be together. 

\-------------------------------

Vanessa had been waiting at the gazebo since she’d watched Charity drive off to Home Farm for the final clue. She’d spent the entire morning hiding the envelopes and it hadn’t been until she’d placed the last one and got the text from Rhona saying she’d delivered the first letter, that Vanessa had suddenly wondered if she’d perhaps gone a little bit over the top – or worse still, got it all completely wrong.

The longer she waits, the more certain she is that her entire plan is about to fall apart at the seams. 

Her stomach twists into knots as Charity pulls up in the car and gets out, still clutching the letters she’s collected. As she gets closer, Vanessa feels a few of the knots unwind when she catches the dopey smile on Charity’s face. 

“Come here you,” she murmurs as she pulls Vanessa into a hug that takes her breath away. She pulls back only to kiss her. “I thought I was meant to be the soft one?” she laughs, holding up the letters, and Vanessa feels herself blush. She had always preferred to show Charity how much she loved her rather than tell her, but after everything she had put her through, it had seemed like the right thing to do – to make sure that Charity knew without a single doubt just how stupidly and completely in love with her she was.

“I needed you to know that falling in love with you has changed everything for me and that you are absolutely my person. The only person that I want by my side for the rest of my life.” 

“Babe, you are absolutely my person too,” Charity insists, before stepping back to look around the gazebo. “But you promised me a present… and I’m not seeing any thermal bloomers here babe.” 

Vanessa swats playfully at her arm and chuckles, but inside, she’s sure her heart is about to thump straight through her ribs. She wipes her sweaty palms quickly on the sides of her coat.

“Okay then, but you have to close your eyes.”

“Seriously babe? It’s not a fake moustache is it? Because if it is, you totally need to start getting your own material.”

Despite the complaining, Charity closes her eyes. With a scrunched up nose, she folds her arms in front of her and taps her foot on the wooden boards below her. Vanessa drags air deep into her lungs before releasing it again slowly. Pulling the little black box from her pocket, she opens it carefully with trembling hands and holds it in front of her anxiously.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” she mumbles. 

For a split second, Charity’s face freezes in shock at the sight of the rings and for just as long, Vanessa manages to convince herself that Charity is going to say no. An apology is already forming on the tip of her tongue when Charity starts to smile.

The smile grows wider and wider, until Vanessa is sure that her jaw must be aching by now. When she looks up into Vanessa’s eyes, all she feels is love. It gives her the courage to carry on.

“Noah bought this ring round a few weeks ago,” she explains, pulling out the ring that Charity had given to her three years ago. “And it made me realise how much I missed wearing it. But after everything, I didn’t just want to put it back on without asking you.” She carefully takes the new ring out of the box next and tries not to drop it when her hands start to shake. “A year without you was enough to make me realise that I don’t want to be without you for a single day more. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy and making sure you know how much I love you.” She watches as Charity’s eyebrows rise hopefully beyond the bridge of her nose. “Charity Dingle, will you be my wife?”

It takes Charity a few seconds to remember how to speak and to form her answer.

“Babe, of course I will!” she finally manages to blurt out and Vanessa lets out the breath she’s been holding. Shakily, she slides the ring onto Charity’s finger before Charity takes her ring and pushes it gently back onto hers. 

“God, I love you,” she sighs, gazing down at where their fingers have linked together between them. 

When Charity kisses her again, it tastes like forever.

**Author's Note:**

> For once, I have an idea of where I'm going with this story so I can promise you that it will get better and that the angst will be worth it.


End file.
